


Difficult Choices

by kimpossible



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Divergence, Choose Your Own Adventure, Engaging in Tropes, Modern Girl in Thedas, POV Multiple, Probable Love Triangle, Resolved Sexual Tension on Occasion, Unresolved Sexual Tension Everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 22:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 67,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimpossible/pseuds/kimpossible
Summary: Noelle was not prepared for this. She has killed a demon, been thrown in jail, been stalked by an elf, and had yelling matches with a commander. Her transition to Thedas is not going smoothly.A tale where the plot is heavily determined by the readers. Vote every week to decide important information about characters, plot and world state and your friendly neighbourhood author will write it.Fic will update every other Wednesday. Voting will remain open until Saturday.





	1. Prologue

Noelle shifted deeper into the couch, burying herself firmly under a collection of cushions. Wasn’t there a blanket somewhere? She dropped her hand over the side of the couch, patting the floor blindly in search of it. Ah. There it is. She hauled the warm knit overtop of her, another barrier against the storm outside. Also, somehow, against her feelings. Under the blanket was safe and comfortable, over the blanket was exposed and depressing.

She flicked through Netflix titles idly, never settling on anything. 

The phone rang.

She almost ignored it but, at the last moment, snatched it off the table just in case. 

It was Leah. “Hey Sis.”

“Hey. How are you doing today?”

“I’m eating ice cream and drinking wine alone on my couch. I had to leave the apartment to get the ice cream though, so there’s that.” A bright flash out the window nearly blinded her. Protip: Don’t look directly at lighting. The cracking thunder a moment later sounded like it was coming from inside the room.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a thunderstorm. I’m waiting for the power to go out because I’m sure the universe wants me to wallow, alone with my thoughts.”

“You could come home.”

Noelle barked a humorless laugh. “It took me so long to get that work visa. I’ve got to stick it out for a while at least - fiance or no. Besides, other than you, there’s nothing back home for me.”

“At least go out with some friends. Don’t sit alone sulking.”

“Almost everyone I know is  _ his  _ friend.” Noelle sighed. “It will be okay. I’ll figure it out eventually. It’s only been a few days.”

“Okay, Sis. Just, I love you and call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Later.” She dropped her phone back on the table, replacing it with a half empty wine glass. Red wine and a pint of chocolate fudge ice cream wasn’t the most sophisticated pairing but it worked for her mood. Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, bringing building-shaking thunder with it. It was strangely green in tone. Must be reflecting off the billboard outside.

A crackling noise sounded behind her and warped herself to see over the arm of the plush sofa. A ball of greenish light, about the size of a grapefruit, was hovering in the air and slowly making its way towards the kitchen. She watched it proceed, eyes wide. Ball lightning, maybe? She’d never seen it before. Her heart rate was increasing at the sight of the strange phenomenon. It blinked out suddenly and she jerked backwards. 

A sizzling crack sounded and she turned in time to see her television encircled with electric current. She shrieked, curling herself up into as small a ball as she could. The screen had cracked and part of it lay shattered on the floor. Tendrils of lightning began to creep across the floor, spreading everywhere. “Fuck.” She slammed back the last of her wine. It was the only thing she could think to do.

A light bulb shattered above her. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she muttered as powdered glass rained down onto her. It’s not like she could move. The floor was completely filled with visible electricity. This couldn’t last, right? Electricity dissipated quickly in most circumstances. Didn’t it?

A bolt arced from the television towards her and Noelle flinched, curling inwards even further. It connected with her forearm, spreading hot and sharp and white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noelle is about to become a MGIT. Has she played Dragon Age?  
>  \- Yes, she has played all the games  
>  \- **Yes, but she has not played Inquisition yet** Winner!  
>  \- No, she is unfamiliar with the franchise
> 
> Does the main character have the Anchor?  
>  \- Yes  
>  \- Yes, but so does someone else  
>  \- **No** Winner!


	2. A Strange New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Housekeeping:
> 
> 1) THANKS SO MUCH to the 40 of you who voted and decided that Noelle would NOT have the Anchor. She has played Dragon Age Origins and II, but not Inquisition.  
> 2) I have decided that Wednesdays will be regular update days and the polls will remain open until Saturday. Hopefully this will be a good balance but I will update if I need.  
> 3) I plan on chapters becoming longer as I have more information to work with. Currently, they are short because of world building limitations -- so vote, y'all!  
> 4) I will update winning votes on Saturday if you need to know before the next chapter!

Things were a bit of a blur. Noelle remembered strange shapes, strange conversations, strange colours. She was pretty sure she remembered falling and landing on her back. There were loud sounds in her ears. Yelling and clanging, maybe? Then there were rough hands shaking her and bringing her fully into consciousness. “Come on, lass. We’ve got to get you to safety before more of those things come.”

A woman’s voice from somewhere unseen asked, “Are we sure she isn’t one of those things?”

She looked up into a stern face with strange tattoos. “Good. You’re with me. Can you stand?” His face was stern but his eyes were warm and crinkled at the edges with care and humour. She reached an arm up to grab his shoulder and connected with cold metal. 

She instantly scurried backwards until her back connected with rock, jarring the everything and sending pain lancing through her body. She had definitely fallen at some point. “You’re wearing armour,” she squeaked.

He furrowed his brows momentarily. “Of course. You’re in the middle of a war zone, lass. That’s why we’ve got to move you.”

“No. You’re wearing  _ armour. _ ” She shook her head. “Not a combat vest. Not army fatigues. Armour.”

“Do you think she’s hit her head?” The woman again. Noelle craned her head to look around the tattooed man. Four more individuals were at the ready. Also wearing armour. Carrying swords and shields. 

“Is this LARP? Are you LARPers?” 

“Listen, lass. I don’t know what you’re on about but that giant hole in the sky is raining demons down on all our heads and we need to move you before more of them make their way here.”

It took a moment for his statement to come together in her brain and for Noelle to slowly tilt her head upwards. A swirling void lit up in green broke the sky above. Great chunks of earth floated near its center and she could just make out that it was spitting projectiles in every direction. “Holy fuck!” She gripped the man’s arm with clawing fingers, trying to pull herself upright but finding she felt slightly dissociated from her body and couldn’t quite convince it to follow her intentions.

Despite the horror churning up the sky above, the man chuckled. “Quite the foul mouth on you.” 

His laughter was almost calming. “If ever there was an appropriate time,” she managed through gritted teeth.

A loud bang and the crunch of rocks being scattered under a great weight caused her to flinch towards the boulder that was providing some semblance of protection. Everyone behind the tattooed man began charging towards the noise. “Stay here,” he ordered before drawing his own sword and following. 

Noelle twisted and braced herself against the rock to get a look at what had them all rushing to address it. They had formed a loose circle around a lumpy form that was moving, rising. It was large. Larger than a human but it seemed to be draped in ragged cloth. It raised its head, pointing a glowing eye in her direction. That thing was  _ not  _ human but it was also not like any animal she had ever seen. It’s skin looked like dried tendons stretched too tight across its form with long, orangutan-like arms that reached out and slashed at the people surrounding it with clawed hands. She couldn’t look away. She didn’t dare turn her back on such a horrifying  _ thing.  _

She watched as it swiped at one person and another one darted in from behind and connected with their sword before swiftly retreating as it turned to retaliate. It was a well choreographed dance, and yet she watched what appeared to be real swords impale themselves in the thing’s flesh and pull away, only for it to continue its attacks. Finally, the one she had begun to think of as Tattoo Guy thrust his sword directly through its neck and it shrieked a horrible, other worldly noise before it seemed to dissolve into the ground. 

A darkness marked the spot where it had died. At least, she hoped it had died.  _ What on earth was that thing even? _

She screamed when a hand on her shoulder shook her. “Lass!” The man was frowning at her. “Pay attention. We’ve got no time for your cowering. We need to get you to the main encampment where you’ll be safe.”

She nodded and took the hand he’d offered her, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Still, her body did not cooperate and she tumbled forward against him. “Alright. Looks like you’re a bit wobbly yet. I hope you don’t mind being carted into camp like a sack o’ potatoes because I’ve no other choice.” The man unstrapped his sword and shield, handing them off and exchanging their weight for hers. “Corporal. Proceed ahead and let the Commander know we’re coming. If you come across anymore demons, do not engage one-on-one. Leave them to us.”

“Yes, Ser.”

Noelle had questions. The most significant one was whether she was dreaming but she figured that asking a figment of her own dream that question was likely to result in little of use. The rest were various interrogatives followed by the words ‘the fuck’.  _ Who the fuck are you people? Where the fuck are we? What the fuck is going on?  _ The man was not offering up conversation and the strained tendons in his neck said she was probably enough of a burden already, so she stayed quiet and prayed to any entity that might be listening that they wouldn’t run into any more ‘demons’.

It took about an hour of being hoisted and jostled and adjusted before half-crumbled walls, wooden palisades, a couple of tents, and many more armoured men moving about, announced that they had reached their destination. The sounds of fighting were louder here, though nothing appeared to be happening at this specific location. Her transportation deposited her briskly on what appeared to be a pallet of some sort. “Sit down and stay there,” he instructed before stretching out his overburdened muscles and scanning about for something.

“Knight-Captain.” She heard the voice, sharp and dominating, and twisted around to look for its source. A blond man, also in armour and with a distracting fur mantle was approaching with a stride that announced he was in charge. “Gather your men for a drink and some food then move towards the eastern entrance. The squad stationed there will require relief. I’ve received reports that a rift opened at that location and the demons are unending.”

“Ser.” Tattoo Guy gave a small salute. “Would you like me to do anything with the prisoner first, Ser?”

Noelle went tense. “Wait, prisoner?”

“No, I will take care of it.” Tattoo Guy abandoned her to his superior officer without so much as a look backwards.

“What do you mean ‘prisoner’?”

“The Corporal tells me you fell out of a rift, the same as the only known survivor of the Conclave. You cannot honestly tell me you believe that you would not be considered a possible hostile?”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I have no idea what any of that means!” She protested.

“It means you are a prisoner until we can ascertain that you are not a threat so you would do well to cooperate.” He moved closer and crouched down to her level and she became uncomfortably aware of how large he was. She also noticed the scar bisecting his upper lip and felt certain that he hadn’t received it from a childhood prank or a skiing accident. This was a man who had seen battle. It was written in his eyes. They appeared haunted despite their warm, amber tone and they examined her dispassionately. “You can begin by telling me who you are and why you are here.”

She shook her head, frustrated. “Maybe first you could tell me where  _ here  _ is?” 

He jerked slightly as his eyebrows shot up.  _ Yeah. You’ve made a lot of assumptions here, asshole.  _ “This is the Frostbacks. We are near what remains of the temple.”

“Are you not being helpful on purpose? What temple? What are ‘the Frostbacks’?”

He stared at her incredulously. “I do not have time for these games.” He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up. She half stumbled and was half dragged to some wooden scaffolding where he tied her wrists around one of its support beams. He paused and then tied her ankles together as well. “When I return, you will be more cooperative.”

She glared at his retreating back before slumping forward against the beam. It seemed unlikely she’d be able to undo the knots by pulling at them with her teeth and, even if she could, where would she go? There were weird fucking creatures ( _ demons,  _ her mind reminded her) apparently all over the place and the sky had a giant hole in it. Besides, she wouldn’t make it far enough to bother with either of those issues when she was dressed in flannel pyjamas and everyone else was wearing armour. She’d be noticed in an instant.

_ Where the fuck was she?  _

There was also something scratching at the back of her brain. There was something familiar about the strange creature they were calling a demon, like she had seen it in a film or something. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Her mind was reaching for anything it could comprehend.  _ You’ve been sucked into a movie.  _ Jumanji, but with soldiers and ruins instead of a jungle and Robin Williams. Or this is some kind of coma hallucination caused by getting electrocuted.

Wait. She had completely forgotten about that. She’d been electrocuted by that strange storm. Hopefully she had at least been brought to hospital and she wasn’t lying unconscious on her living room floor. She closed her eyes and waited for this nightmare to end. It was all she could do, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bear with me while I figure out how to make this voting thing work properly. Click on the questions to vote. 
> 
> The Fade can change people in strange and unexpected ways. Will Noelle be human, dwarven, or elven in Thedas? (I’m sorry for no Qunari option, I just feel like the body dysmorphia would be too much for me to do justice to as she adjusts.)  
> \- **Human** Winner (56%)  
>  \- Dwarf  
> \- Elf
> 
> What does Noelle look like? (Body type will obviously be determined in part by race - human/elf/dwarf.)  
> \- Tightly coiled curls. Warm umber skin. Brown eyes. Petite.  
> \- **Wild red hair. Freckles. Creamy skin. Green eyes. Willowy.** Winner (46%)  
>  \- Short, straight blonde hair. Golden, sandy skin. Blue eyes. Muscular.  
> \- Long, sleek, dark hair. Brassy, olive skin. Hazel eyes. Curvy.
> 
> Will the Herald choose to take the mountain path or charge with the soldiers? (This will affect when/how Noelle meets certain characters.)  
> \- **Take the mountain path** Winner (63%)  
>  \- Charge with the soldiers


	3. A New Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Week's Votes:
> 
> The Fade can change people in strange and unexpected ways. Will Noelle be human, dwarven, or elven in Thedas?  
> \- **Human** Winner (56%)  
>  \- Dwarf  
> \- Elf
> 
> What does Noelle look like?  
> \- Tightly coiled curls. Warm umber skin. Brown eyes. Petite.  
> \- **Wild red hair. Freckles. Creamy skin. Green eyes. Willowy.** Winner (46%)  
>  \- Short, straight blonde hair. Golden, sandy skin. Blue eyes. Muscular.  
> \- Long, sleek, dark hair. Brassy, olive skin. Hazel eyes. Curvy.
> 
> Will the Herald choose to take the mountain path or charge with the soldiers?  
> \- **Take the mountain path** Winner (63%)  
>  \- Charge with the soldiers
> 
> \--

Cullen sighed as he examined the map. The markings delineating known rifts were increasing, meanwhile the number of men under his command only decreased. These demons would destroy them all if that apostate was wrong about the mark and its relationship to the hole in the sky. 

He had a brief urge to take lyrium that he pushed down to the place for things that he couldn’t think about right now. He needed some water. It would distract his senses and possibly help keep this creeping headache at bay. He couldn’t afford to be weak now. He moved to the water barrel and pulled a ladle of the cool liquid to his lips, draining it quickly.

His eye wandered to the other prisoner. There was no sign of a mark on her wrist, so what was her relationship to all this? Perhaps a fresh attempt at questioning would be worthwhile. He looked down at the ladle in his hand and Leliana’s clever voice wandered into his head. She was saying something about luring more Orlesians with cakes than stew. Not that this woman sounded Orlesian, but the suggestion to be nice still stood.

He filled the ladle again and moved over to her. She was curled over her knees, resting her forehead against the support beam her arms were tied around. He cleared his throat and she jerked her head upright in surprise before glaring at him with sharp, green eyes. “I, uh, brought you some water.” He made to hand the ladle to her and she raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly towards her wrists.  _ Idiot,  _ he thought. He crouched and raised the ladle to her lips instead, slowly tilting the spoon to allow the water to dribble into her mouth steadily. She drank, glowering at him openly as she did.  _ So much for Orlesian cakes. _

“Should we try for introductions again?” He tried to keep his voice light but the edge of frustration hung in his words anyways.

She said nothing, only stared at him suspiciously. 

“This will go much easier if you cooperate.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Oh? I am not used to being held prisoner. Is that proper prisoner etiquette?”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, rubbing gloved fingers against his eyes. This conversation was not going to help his headache. “I am not trying to be cruel. Your being tied up is for the safety of my people.”

She rolled her eyes and he wasn’t sure if he felt more annoyed or amused at the motion. While he was certainly more familiar with capturing mages who had escaped or otherwise transgressed, he had never had anyone under his care be so cavalier about their situation. “It’s Noelle.”

“What?”

“My name.” Another eye roll. “It’s Noelle Williams.”

He stuck out his hand. “Commander Rutherford.” He looked to where his hand was hovering and quickly withdrew it. Her tied wrists made the gesture completely ridiculous. He really wasn’t used to this niceties approach.

“Why are you here, Noelle?”

She returned a flat expression. “Your tattooed guy brought me here.”

“I think you know I was not referring to Knight-Captain Rylen’s escorting you here.”

“Knight-Captain? What kind of a title is-” She stopped, her mouth hanging open a bit as a flurry of tiny changes in her eyes gave evidence to her chaotic thoughts. Had she just realized the man was a Templar? Was she an apostate? She licked her lips. “Is this Dragon Age?”

That was not the question he was expecting.

“It is 9:41 Dragon,” he replied. Perhaps she had hit her head?

“Holy fuck.” She shivered, a tremulous thing that made its way up her entire body. He noticed her strange clothing then. Her pants appeared soft and slightly fuzzy, and sported a pattern that reminded him of plaideweave, only it was the colours that were woven rather than the fabric. On top she wore only a flimsy piece of fabric with tiny straps over her shoulders that left freckled arms and collarbones exposed to the elements. He could see the signs of her chill poking through the thin material and he blushed and lowered his gaze. She wore nothing on her feet.

“You must be cold,” he said and undid his mantle to wrap it around her shoulders. Her red hair almost disappeared into the fur once it settled on her slight frame.

“Thank you,” she murmured. It was as though the fight had suddenly drained out of her. Cullen pressed his lips together thoughtfully before a voice interrupted.

“Ser. Message from Seeker Pentaghast.” 

Cullen stood, turning to take the parchment from the scout in front of him. Maker, some of these new recruits were so young - not that Cullen was a stranger to joining a cause at an early age. 

_ Commander Cullen, _

_ The prisoner has awoken. We make our way to the Breach by way of the mountain pass. The mark has succeeded in closing a smaller rift. It is necessary that you coordinate a singular attack to draw attention away from our approach. Afterwards, whatever the outcome, please direct as many to safety as possible. _

_ Good luck, my friend _

~~_ Seeker _ ~~ _ Cassandra Pentaghast _

He ran a hand through his hair as he read. This was good news, and yet his chest remained compressed tightly. They would know their chances of success soon. His eyes returned to her valediction and he allowed a somber half-smile to cross his face, glad she also felt that they had become friends. “Scout.” He paused, looking at the prisoner.  _ Noelle,  _ he reminded himself before it escaped him. She was listening. He led the scout a few steps away to the map, speaking low. “We have squadrons stationed here, down here, here, over here, and here.” He pointed out each location in turn. “I need you to inform each group to return here for a united attack. Afterwards, you will return here as well. Do not engage in combat with any demons you encounter along the way. Your priority is to reach these soldiers and return as soon as possible.” He shouldn’t have needed to state the last instruction, but something in the man’s young face made him do so.

He returned to the prisoner. “Did you say Seeker Pentaghast?” Her eyes narrowed, intense and impatient, as she waited for his response.

It might have been pertinent to keep all information from her, but he couldn’t see any purpose in lying about this point. “I did,” he said slowly.

“Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast?”

“Yes.” The prisoner nodded to herself and he could see wheels turning in her head. He didn’t like it. “Why?”

She shook her head with a puzzled smile. “Nothing. I just know who that is. I suppose that makes sense, right? I wouldn’t manufacture this entire thing out of nothing.” Another head shake. “I don’t know. This is all so strange.”

He had no idea what she was talking about.

\--

Noelle watched with interest as more soldiers invaded the space. There had been perhaps a couple dozen soldiers resting, eating, and cleaning their weapons before but now there was certainly well over a hundred men - and they were not resting. They were organized into units and receiving instructions from the Commander.

She shifted awkwardly. Her shoulders ached from where her arms were tied. She must have been here for a couple of hours now and with every one that passed she was less certain that she was having some sort of coma dream. That slowly creeping dread was the most terrifying thing that had happened so far. Not waking up to medieval looking soldiers. Not seeing a demon. Not being taken prisoner and tied up. The persistent thought that this might somehow be real made her want to vomit.

She watched as Commander Rutherford made his way towards her again. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him yet. On the one hand, he had tied her up even though she was pretty obviously defenseless and had left her to shiver in the cold for over an hour when she had reacted to his questions with confusion. On the other hand, he had eventually brought her some water and given her his own fur cloak. It smelled like sweat and smoke and blood, but it was still a kind gesture. It’s also not as though he had hurt her, though that was an admittedly low bar and she wasn’t exactly comfortable.

The young man who brought the message earlier, she’d be surprised if he was a day over nineteen, trailed behind him. “-watch her and ensure she does not escape,” the commander was instructing as they approached. He looked to her, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “We have not established that she is to blame yet. If the assault fails, you will untie her before this place is overrun so she has a chance for survival.”

“Yes, Ser.” The scout appeared nervous. No doubt he’d never been in charge of a prisoner before if he was usually delivering messages. The older man turned to return to his men, flicking one last glance at her as he walked away. He never addressed her.

Noelle watched the soldiers marching after him and tried not to think too hard about the words ‘overrun’ or ‘chance for survival’. It seemed obvious, however, that requiring the man in front of her to free her before they could escape reduced both their chances of survival if the place was suddenly swarming with demons. She wasn’t sure if the same thought had occurred to the scout or not. He was standing straight and staring ahead, the glimmer of nervousness still in his eyes.

“What’s your name?” His eyes flicked to her and returned back. He didn’t respond. “I’m Noelle,” she tried again.

Nothing.

“Did he tell you not to talk to me?”

“No. But I’m supposed to be watching you.” The man’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Ah. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you couldn’t do both at the same time. My mistake.” She heard herself being passive aggressive but she was too sore and cranky to care.

“I- uh. It’s Scout Jim.” She looked at him in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to change his mind because she’d been grumpy with him.

“Nice to meet you, Jim. Where are you from?”

“I-I’m not sure I should be t-telling you things,” he stammered. 

“What if I promise not to ask anything about all this?” She gestured with her head, indicating the current situation as best she could. She really needed to make some kind of a connection here, even if it meant she couldn’t ask about where all the soldiers had marched off to or why. “I don’t guess your background is a great secret. Also, I can share things with you. I’m just tired of waiting in silence.”  _ And I’m more than a little scared and could use the distraction. _

“That seems like it’s probably okay.” He quickly sat down so they could converse more easily. “My family was from Lothering.”

_ Oh.  _ “Oh. I’m so sorry, Jim. That must have been difficult.” 

Jim smiled. “It’s okay. I was just a kid. I thought we were going on a family trip. Me and my brother played Grey Wardens on the way and didn’t even get why it suddenly made the grown ups uncomfortable.”

“I’m glad it’s not a painful memory for you.” She was. This poor kid was running around in the middle of a war against demons. It would be sad to learn that his childhood had felt much the same.

“Where are you from?”

“I- You wouldn’t have heard of it.” Jim narrowed his eyes and immediately radiated nervous energy. “Okay, okay. I did say I would answer your questions. I’m not trying to be evasive but I honestly don’t think you know where Montreal is.”

He wrinkled his nose as he puzzled through his knowledge of geography. “Is it in Orlais?”

Noelle laughed. “Not even close. I did tell you.” Jim wasn’t listening anymore. He’d scrambled to his feet and was pulling the bow off his back. Noelle turned sharply to see a demon moving towards them. It slid across the ground smoothly, despite the rubble and junk scattered about. It was a shade, she now realized, the same type of demon as before. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest and her ears, reminding her that she was trapped when every instinct told her to flee.

“Jim, let me free.”

“It’s only one demon. I can do this.” He sounded unsure.

“There could be more. I won’t run. Please.”

His eyes skirted to her and back to the demon. He swiftly pulled a dagger from his boot and started sawing through her ropes. She watched the demon slide towards them as he did. It was only about fifty metres away by the time her hands were free, despite not being particularly fast. She began to frantically untie her feet as Jim loosed an arrow at it. The projectile stuck in its shoulder and it continued advancing. Another arrow in its leg did nothing.

It was much closer now. Noelle jumped to her feet and quickly crashed back onto her knees. Hours bound to a pole had not helped her ability to coordinate her limbs. She stood more slowly and began searching frantically for a weapon of some kind. A stand of swords was on the other side of the creature.

In front of her, Jim let one more arrow fly into the shade before it reached him and threw him aside with a large talon and a shriek of annoyance. She watched his body ragdoll across the ground until it thudded into a stone wall with a sickening smack. 

The demon turned its glowing eyes to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Noelle be able to use magic?  
> \- Yes  
> \- Very erratically after bonding with a benevolent spirit in the Fade  
> \- **No** Winner! (48%)
> 
> Does Noelle save Scout Jim or does Scout Jim save Noelle?  
> \- **Noelle saves Jim** Winner! (71%)  
>  \- Jim saves Noelle
> 
> What is the Herald's gender?  
> \- **Man** Winner! (68%)  
>  \- Woman  
> \- Non-Binary
> 
> Hey folks! I want to hear about your votes in the comments! Why did you pick what you did?
> 
> Like, last week I was totally surprised by how many of you apparently hate blondes? What up with that? And I totally expected the Herald to be charging with the soldiers because it means we connect with Varric/Solas/Cass/Herald more quickly and I had this whole scene in my head where Varric snuck off to talk to Noelle and she recognizes him and that's how she figures out where she is but then y'all wanted them to take the mountain path so THAT didn't happen. Ha!
> 
> So, yeah, just curious. For anything you chose this week or before now - why did you vote that way? Also, you can always use the comments to comment on the story, of course.


	4. A Rough Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Noelle be able to use magic?  
> \- Yes  
> \- Very erratically after bonding with a benevolent spirit in the Fade  
> \- **No** Winner! (48%)
> 
> Does Noelle save Scout Jim or does Scout Jim save Noelle?  
> \- **Noelle saves Jim** Winner! (71%)  
>  \- Jim saves Noelle
> 
> What is the Herald's gender?  
> \- **Man** Winner! (68%)  
>  \- Woman  
> \- Non-Binary
> 
> Author's Note: I realized I have made a mistake in the design of some of my questions. This week more of you voted for Noelle to have some sort of magic than no magic but, because the votes were split between two different manifestations of magic, no magic won. Another example of a question where I formatted responses like this (though it didn't cause a problem that time) was about whether or not Noelle had the Anchor. 
> 
> I apologize and, in future, I will avoid offering more than two options unless they are categorically different. So, no more "Yes" or "Yes and"/"No but" or "No" questions. Thanks for your patience as I iron out all the kinks in making this weird project work!

Jim felt his ribs crack and his skull fracture as he smashed into a wall and everything went grey for a moment. At the least, he hoped it was only a moment. When his vision cleared, he saw the shade advancing on the prisoner. Noelle was without weapon, and without strength. She wobbled on her legs and was startlingly ashen.

He opened his mouth to call out to the demon, to divert its attention, but only a squeaking croak sounded from his lips.

He could hardly move and he felt the bile rising in his throat as he began to panic. He had to save her, didn’t he? The commander would want to question her and Jim would be flayed alive if he allowed her to die. The image of the commander’s face contorted in fury and disgust spurred him to drag an arm in front of him to grasp at a small stone. He hefted it up a few inches and chucked it uselessly in the direction of the demon and woman facing off a few metres away.

It fell far short of the demon in question but the sound of clattering just behind it caused the creature to jerk its head to the side, searching for an unseen threat. Noelle moved quickly, a few abrupt paces before she stumbled and caught herself against the weapon rack. She hauled a sword from the collection and held it, two-handed and shaking, in front of her. Still, her face was fierce and she spat vulgar insults at the thing that Jim would never dare to repeat.

He was actually impressed when she yelled and hurled herself towards the shade, thrusting the sword clean through it with all her might and with all the grace of an angry nug. She hauled back on the embedded sword, pulling it out of the creature and falling backwards just as the shade swiped for her, avoiding it with her clumsiness. It was bearing down on her now and Jim felt himself willing her to succeed. She was what his mom would have called ‘scrappy’, and she had been nice to him. She deserved to live, he thought as his head swam with the effort of maintaining consciousness.

The shade reached for her and she slashed at its claw from her position on the ground, severing it and sending it flying towards Jim. He watched, nauseated, as it twitched and shook a few feet away from him. The demon shrieked, the noise sharply slicing through his awareness. Noelle had managed to get the sword up into the thing’s neck and was holding it firm as the demon shrivelled and melted around it. 

Quickly, her face was in front of him as she leaned over him. The light of the sun and the Breach lit her from behind, causing her red hair to glow like fire. He thought maybe she was Andraste come to save him and he smiled up at her. “Jim. Jim, can you hear me?” She touched his head and when she pulled her hand away it was covered in blood. She looked at it in horror. “Fuck. Fuckety fuck.”  _ Was the Maker’s wife always so coarse? _ She looked over him and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to press against his head.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Head injuries always bleed a lot. Every cop show ever has said as much.” He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to herself. “Don’t try to get up. You might have a spinal injury. Can you wiggle your fingers?”  _ Oh. To me then.  _ He pulled on his reserves of strength and wiggled his fingers for her. “Good. Great. Now your toes.” He wiggled his toes. “Fuck. Sorry, flex your ankles. I can’t see your toes through you boots.” He straightened and bent his feet. “Thank Christ. Still don’t move. Something could shift and still fuck you up.”

She sat up a bit, still pressing the cloth to his head, and looked around. “Are there any potions or anything around here?”

He blinked at her slowly. She was asking him a question, but thinking felt so hard. Something about potions? “Chest,” he wheezed. Maker, his chest hurt. “By weapons.”

She was gone, limping across the ruin. It was quite cold, he thought. Was it this cold before? She was back, holding up two potion bottles. “Red, right? Red is for healing?”

A throaty sound that didn’t quite manage to be a word came from his mouth. Evidently it sounded affirmative enough because she was unstoppering the red one and pressing it to his lips. “Drink,” she commanded, as though he didn’t know what to do with a potion. He drank. A tiny trickle escaped his mouth and left a numb line across his cheek where the liquid had travelled. A pleasant fuzziness wafted through his head. It would be very nice to go to sleep now. He felt his eyes closing. 

“Nope!” A hand was lightly tapping on his face, bringing him back. “No sleeping until I know you aren’t going into shock or anything.” He felt a moment of intense irritation, a wish that she had let the demon take them both, but he blinked it away. She pulled the red fur from her shoulders and draped it over his body.  _ Wait, is this the commander’s?  _ He tried to protest, to push it off but she clucked at him sharply and put it back on with a glare that promised retribution if he tried it again.

“I need you to stay awake because I don’t know that it’s not dangerous for you to go unconscious right now. Okay, Jim? Why don’t you tell me about your family. Tell me everything that drives you crazy about your brother, or something.”

\--

Rylen eyed the Commander warily as the remnants of their army trudged back to base camp. They had lost too many men, and the weight of it showed on his face. Still, they had killed almost every demon on this Maker forsaken mountain and the Breach was now stable. The assault was technically a success. He turned his gaze upwards. It was no longer a swirling and expanding void, but the rip in the sky still caused his stomach to turn in on itself. It was an unnatural and dangerous magic.

“We’ll have to get the prisoner to Haven so Seeker Pentaghast can meet with her there.” Commander Rutherford’s voice was rough and exhaustion coloured every syllable he uttered.

“Aye, Ser.”

“We’ll have to begin collecting the bodies and coordinate resupply of this location in case it all begins again.”

“Aye. Perhaps a rest first though?”

The Commander shot him a sharp look before his expression settled into something more resigned. “Perhaps.”

As they entered the camp, Rylen saw two things. First, the prisoner wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Second, she was kneeling over a visibly injured scout. He saw her back stiffen and suddenly she was on her feet, holding a sword in front of her with two trembling hands. 

He swiftly pulled his sword out. Commander Rutherford was doing the same. “Drop your weapon.” The Commander’s voice betrayed none of the exhaustion it had a moment ago. “Now.”

The prisoner wavered, looking down at hands stubbornly gripping the weapon before they finally let go and the thing clattered on the ground. The Commander strode over, immediately dragging her away from the scout. “Why aren’t you restrained any longer?” Rylen could see soldiers milling about and watching the disruption.

“There was a demon.” She was shaking noticeably. “Jim let me go so I could defend myself.” She pressed her lips together and stood a little taller, staring down the Commander with all the fire of a woman who didn’t realize she was being an idiot in challenging him. “He’s injured, and you would do best to stop worrying about me and start taking care of the  _ boy  _ under your command who is laying on the ground behind you!”

Rylen snorted. She wasn’t exactly an old lady to be calling a grown lad of nineteen a boy. 

“Tie her up,” the Commander growled as he pushed past her to check on the scout, whom Rylen just realized was draped in his mantle.  _ He’s going to love that. _

“Asshole,” she muttered.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for your hands, darling.” Rylen picked up a length of rope and swung it in front of her playfully. 

She looked at him with an unfathomable expression and he waited for her to reveal what she was thinking. “Are you trying to put me at ease while you tie me up?” She raised an eyebrow but her face betrayed no emotion.

“I, uh, I suppose I am, lass.”

She shook her head but the corner of her mouth lifted and hinted at a smile. “Well, I appreciate you trying to be nice.” He gestured for her to put out her wrists and she did so with a long sigh. “But my name is not ‘darling’ or ‘lass’. It’s Noelle.”

“Alright, Noelle.” He grinned as he looped rope around her wrists, tying them together as gently as he could. He glanced up at her as he finished. She was crying, dripping dark lines down her face. 

“Sorry,” she sniffed. “You’re the first person to say my name since I got here and it just-” A sob cut her sentence short. “Fucking demons.”

“Aye. Demons. Fuck ‘em.”

She huffed a laugh, bringing up her tied hands to wipe dark smears from her cheeks. She turned to look behind her and Rylen followed her gaze to where Jim was being carried away on a stretcher. “I’m sure he’ll be okay, lass - er, Noelle.”

She scoffed, staring down at her feet. “He was my guard. He’s not, like, my friend or anything.” Rylen decided it was wisest to keep his mouth shut. “He’s just so young… and he was nice to me.”

He looked over towards Rutherford. The Commander was directing troop rotations back to Haven for rest and resupply. “Can you walk now?”

“I’m a little slow and wobbly but I can manage.”

“Good. I wasn’t looking forward to carrying you all the way back to Haven,” he teased.

\--

Noelle rested her head against the metal bars. She had seriously considered yelling, protesting, fighting, anything other than quiet acquiescence when the Knight-Captain had brought her into what could only be described as a dungeon.  _ Really though. What would be the point?  _ She had nowhere else to go. Nothing to gain. Besides, he had been more or less kind to her, telling jokes to take her mind off things as he escorted her ass straight into a jail cell. A wet, cold, dark, and bug-infested jail cell.

Fuck this place.

“No.” She heard a faint and familiar voice. A woman’s. “The leader was a man. I heard him myself, but perhaps she works for him.”

“Perhaps, although I would doubt she’s some common lackey. She has a noble bearing about her. At the very least, she looks quite healthful.” A man. She thought it might be Commander Rutherford again.

“Hush. We are within hearing distance now.” Another woman. Also familiar.

The sound of approaching footsteps replaced the voices and Noelle quickly found herself with three individuals staring her down. 

A woman with short, dark hair and a scar across her cheek spoke first. “Who do you work for?” Her voice was definitely familiar and Noelle suspected this might be Seeker Pentaghast in the flesh, or ( _ hopefully _ ) the coma dream version of her. She didn’t look like the overly smoothed, fake looking woman of Dragon Age 2, but she bore some resemblance. Probably not the right time to ask.

“I’m not working for anyone.”

The woman scoffed. “I saw an image of your associate. I heard his voice. We’ve stabilized his hole in the sky. It is only a matter of time before we find him. Perhaps if you cooperate, you’ll be spared an execution.”

Noelle trembled at the word.  _ Execution.  _ “I d-don’t know anything.” She felt the sharp itchiness of tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“There are ways of making her talk.” The other woman’s voice was menacing, the implication clear. Her face was obscured by shadow.

“Maker’s Breath. Is that really necessary?” Noelle’s eyes shot to the Commander. She didn’t expect him to act as her defender, even if only to advocate for not using torture.

“The Divine is dead. Everything is necessary.” The woman who might be the Seeker glowered down at Noelle without pity.

“Maybe we should wait until the prisoner wakes. He has proven trustworthy and he might know something about her.”

“He might not wake at all, and we do not have the luxury of simply waiting, Commander.” She never took her eyes from Noelle’s face. “Tell me everything and maybe we will let you go.”  

Noelle had descended fully into her fear, allowing the tears and sobs to escape freely. She didn’t have the energy to hold back. “Honestly, I was just sitting at home and drinking wine when this storm came and filled the air with lightning.” Her words were punctuated with gasping sobs. “I think I was hit and I woke up on that fucking mountain. That’s all I know, please.”

“Ugh.” The Seeker threw her arms up in exasperation. “She is useless in this state. Maybe a few more hours down here will make her more cooperative.”

“In the meantime, I can examine the veracity of at least one of her claims.”

The Commander looked at the hooded woman in surprise. “What claim?”

“Whether she was here before any of this started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, click on the question to vote! Please comment on your choices, the story so far, or whatever random thought pops into your head! 
> 
> How does Noelle get out of prison?  
> \- Scout Jim convinces the advisors to give her a chance **Winner!** (42%)  
>  \- The Herald lies and says he remembers her from the Fade  
> \- Leliana tortures her and becomes convinced of her innocence
> 
> Does Noelle admit she’s from another world where Thedas is fiction?  
> \- Yes **Winner!** 57%  
>  \- No
> 
> Who is the Herald?  
> \- Maxwell Trevelyan **Winner!** (30%)  
>  \- Mahanon Lavellan  
> \- Edric Cadash  
> \- Karaas Adaar
> 
> Also, come visit me on [Tumblr](https://kimpossibility.tumblr.com/) and say hello! I also made a [Ko-Fi ](https://ko-fi.com/kimpossible)account, so if you want to extra make my day and contribute towards seeing art for this fic (this is straight up commission funding) - come visit there too! I'll fill a 500 word prompt for each coffee as a thank you. <3


	5. A Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry this is being posted so late this week. I had a hell of a time with this chapter. I'm still mad at it and we aren't on speaking terms - but deadlines are deadlines!
> 
> 50 of you voted this week. One of you saved me from having to figure out how to deal with a three-way tie re: the Herald. So thank you for that. 
> 
> How does Noelle get out of prison?  
> \- **Scout Jim convinces the advisors to give her a chance** Winner! (42%)  
>  \- The Herald lies and says he remembers her from the Fade  
> \- Leliana tortures her and becomes convinced of her innocence
> 
> Does Noelle admit she’s from another world where Thedas is fiction?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (57%)  
>  \- No
> 
> Who is the Herald?  
> \- **Maxwell Trevelyan** Winner! (30%)  
>  \- Mahanon Lavellan  
> \- Edric Cadash  
> \- Karaas Adaar

“It is certainly strange. I cannot find out a single thing about her. It is as if she did not exist before two days ago.”

Cassandra looked at Leliana curiously. It was rare to see her friend unnerved by anything. Josephine and Commander Cullen appeared equally unsettled; the latter shifting back and forth on his feet. “That is simply not possible. It must be the resources of her master keeping her hidden.”

Leliana nodded slowly, considering. “There is only one thing for it. We have waited for the truth to reveal itself and it has not. It is time to move onto something more active.”

“Surely we are not truly considering torture?” Cullen crossed his arms, defensive.

“We are considering everythi-”

“No!” A scout half burst, half fell through the door. “You can’t do that!”

“Explain yourself.” Cassandra marched to the scout, hauling him upright by the shoulder.

“This is Scout Jim. He watched the prisoner during the attack.”

Leliana peered at him, narrowing her eyes. “If you wish to remain in my employ, you will leave immediately.” Her voice was calm and the boy shook in his boots. He was quite young and Cassandra found herself equally furious and amazed that he’d had the courage to listen in and then to reveal himself.

Although perhaps it was thoughtless foolishness rather than courage.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am. I am sorry but she saved my life and I can’t let you torture her. It wouldn’t be right.” He stood up a little straighter on the last words, more certain in their accuracy than before he had uttered them aloud.

“Did you ever think that she might have saved your life to gain an ally?” Cassandra continued to grip his shoulder as she spoke.

“If she was with the attackers, surely she would have let him die and taken the opportunity to escape and rejoin them?” Cassandra found herself regularly surprised by Josephine. The woman alternated between astute and naive, merciless and kind, stubborn and amenable.

“She could have," the scout agreed. "I was in no position to follow her or even notice which direction she went.”

“This is hardly a guarantee of her innocence. If we do not extract the truth from her via these methods, then how can we get it from her?”

“You could ask?” The whole room turned an incredulous gaze to the scout. “What? She’s actually pretty open to answering questions. And she’s nice.”

Cullen snorted, clearly of a differing opinion on that matter. “She was reticent and unhelpful.”

“All due respect, Ser, but you locked her up and yelled at her. She was kind to me. She deserves a chance to be listened to without… cruelty.”

Cassandra released him, suddenly interested in what he might have to say. “What did you learn from her?”

His nose crunched as he tried to pull something out of his head. “She said I probably hadn’t heard of where she was from and called it Monk Tree? That can’t be right. I remember it sounded Orlesian but she said it wasn’t. Mun-something.”

Josephine smiled. “We could send someone charming to talk to her. Maybe pretend they are a prisoner as well to earn her trust? It would be kinder, Leliana. We have to consider what kind of organization we wish to be.”

Jim was nodding vigorously.

“This is an interesting idea, Josie. We could send someone to get information out of her and I’ll send one of mine in secret to listen and report back on what was said,” Leliana put forward.

“Who do we send?”

“What about that dwarf? He is quite charming.”

“No.” Cassandra ensured her voice would cut through the discussion. “Out of the question. The dwarf is a professional liar.”

“Exactly why he would be perfect. He doesn’t not need to report back to us, only to get the prisoner to open up.”

“He could be useful, Cassandra.”

She looked to Cullen imploringly. He had had dealings with the dwarf before, surely he saw the folly in this? He merely shrugged.

“Ugh.” They were all against her, but they weren’t in that room listening to the dwarf spin his tale. He was at best a scoundrel. At worst, a manipulative opportunist.

“Surely you don’t believe he is working against us or was somehow behind this? He wasn’t even free until the explosion occurred.”

“No. Of course not. But I do believe that he would take any opportunity and use it for his own ends.”

The corner of Leliana’s mouth twitched upwards. “I believe you have just described a majority of people. Let us simply ensure that his own ends align with ours.”

\--

Varric banged his toe against one of the cell bars. “Ouch! Watch it,” he grunted, looking up to the Seeker and winking to show it was part of the game. She rolled her eyes and let out a disgusted noise. If he ever wrote a book about her, he’d be sure to have her grunt in disgust as frequently as possible.

“You can’t lock me up!” He opined, gripping the bars melodramatically. “I haven’t done anything!”

Cassandra didn’t respond. She simply locked the door and strode off. Not a streak of drama in her, apparently. He cast his gaze across the way to the woman in the opposite cell. She was curled up in the back corner, her head buried in her knees. She didn’t appear to have even looked up. One would expect a traitor and spy to be more curious.

“Looks like you and me are trapped down here together. How about some introductions?”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t even flinch. And yet, she was clearly awake.

“Varric Tethras, here to make your stay in the prison a little more interesting.”

Suddenly, her head did lift and she turned wide eyes towards him before scurrying forward. “Varric? Varric, you have to help me. Please. I’m so scared.”

Well, that was a surprise. He peered a little closer at her. Nothing about her was bringing up anything for him, and he was normally good at this. “Do I know you?”

She sank back down, turning away. “No. No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“Hey, I’m really sorry if I don’t remember you. It’s been a crazy few years, you know?”

“No. I wouldn’t expect you to.” She sounded truly dejected. “We’ve never met.”

Varric grinned, he could work with this. “So, a fan then?” 

“I suppose you could say that. I’ve been following you for awhile.”

“So which is your favourite? Hard in Hightown, maybe? Tale of the Champion?” He’d get to the important questions later.

“I haven’t read any of your books.”

That gave him pause. “So when you say you’ve been following me…”

“I guess you could say I’ve been reading about you?”

Varric took a step backwards, crossing his arms defensively. This game suddenly wasn’t as fun as it sounded. “Someone has been reporting to you about me?”

The woman quickly turned back to him again. “No! No, nothing like that. It’s more like… I read a story with you in it? I guess it probably would be pretty similar to Tale of the Champion because it followed those events but it’s a different… book.”

He remained quiet. It seemed more likely that she was off her rocker than that she was a traitor or spy.

“I’m not from here,” she said after awhile. “This whole thing is like a bizarre dream. Or nightmare. Thedas isn’t supposed to be real. I thought it was just a story. I mean, maybe it’s not real and this is still a coma dream but I’ve never heard of dreams where you go to sleep, have dreams there, and wake up right back in it again.”

“Pretty weird,” he said to be polite. She seemed to be rambling at him rather than herself.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I’ve heard weirder shit.”

“I can tell when someone sidesteps a question.” She tilted her head to the side. “Varric, if I convince you, will you help me?”

“What makes you think I’m in a position to help you? I’m locked up, same as you.”

She shot him a look that suggested he better not think her stupid. “You’ve gotten out of worse scrapes. The Seeker has also let you go before. What did you do to get yourself back in trouble, anyways?”

He was surprised for a half second. Perhaps she was a decent spy, if she knew he had been arrested by the Seeker. He shrugged. “Who even knows with that one? Angry woman.”

“Uh huh.” That same expression. “If you think I didn’t notice that you sidestepped two more times, you’d be wrong.”

He sighed. “Alright, girly. If you convince me that you’re from a different world, and that you had nothing to do with that big hole in the sky, I’ll do whatever is in my power to help you.”

She nodded. “It's Noelle - not 'girly'. In this… book, I saw, uh- read about Cassandra interrogating you.” He raised his eyebrow. An interesting slip, but not one that told him anything. There was no way she could have seen what went down in that room. “And I know she stabbed your book.”

“I joke about that with anyone who will listen. Try again.”

“I know she challenged you about Flemeth’s involvement.” Varric almost reacted. Almost. He hadn’t written about Flemeth in the book. This was at least getting a little more interesting. “I know you told her that Bartrand said he betrayed you out of jealousy after you shot three guards with one arrow and that she knew it was bullshit and was not entertained. I know she thought it was romantic that Hawke killed the Arishok in single combat and you accused her of hero worship. And I know that you left out information about Hawke killing a darkspawn magister.” Varric shifted awkwardly. He was beginning to think Cassandra was setting him up rather than this woman.

“Varric. I promise I’m not from here. I’m from Earth.” He opened his mouth but she cut him off. “Yes, like the dirt. I’m from a city called Montreal in a country called Canada. We don’t have magic, dwarves, darkspawn, a Chantry… any of it. It’s all a fiction from storybooks. I’m completely and utterly lost here and I really do need your help because I know you’re a good person and I can trust you.” At some point during her spiel she had begun crying. He didn’t even notice until she wiped her cheek and sniffed.

Varric hesitated. It sounded like complete nonsense, and yet there was something genuine in her plaintive pleading. “How do I know that Cassandra didn’t just tell you that stuff?”

“Oh,” she sniffed. “I didn’t even think of that. She’s only ever yelled at me. I guess I don’t have anything then.” She sat back and leaned against the wall. “I’m so fucked.”

“They’ll let you go if you weren’t involved in the explosion.”

“Explosion? I thought this was about the hole in the sky, not what happened in Kirkwall. I’ve never even been to Kirkwall!”

This was definitely getting stranger. “What do you think caused the hole in the sky?”

Her eyes widened. “An explosion can do that here? Piss on a stick. They haven’t told me anything. They just keep asking questions.”

Varric took a deep breath and began to explain: the war, the conclave, the explosion, the death of the Divine, the Breach, the Anchor. All of it. If she was innocent and telling the truth, she deserved to know. If she was lying, she knew anyways and he could take some small joy in boring her for twenty minutes.

Quick footsteps echoed loudly as they travelled down the stairs. “Is what I was told true?” Cassandra was thundering.

“Depends on what you’re referring to, Seeker.” Varric smirked. Something about seeing the woman unnerved amused him. For her part, Noelle had retreated into the back corner away from the yelling. 

“Does she know about our conversation?”

So much for his theory that Cassandra had set him up. “She sure seems to.”

The Seeker turned to Noelle. “What else do you know about me?”

“Probably nothing,” she responded. “You weren’t in the story much. It was more about Hawke. Also I read the story of the Warden… the Hero of Ferelden, that is, a lot more often.”

A silent figure stepped out of the shadows. Varric couldn’t say he was surprised that the Nightingale was there. She had a knack for being everywhere she needed to be. Leliana pulled back her hood and levelled an icy stare at Noelle. “Tell me what you know.”

\--

Noelle blinked. Two days in the dungeon had not prepared her for bright sunshine and the noise of an overcrowded village. Leliana stood next to her and Noelle was hyper aware of her presence. She was nothing like the woman she knew from Origins. She’d been hardened, apparently, and now she was terrifying. Noelle had realized after recognizing her that she had been the one who wanted to torture her. Leliana, who loved shoes and the Maker, wanted to torture her. Thank goodness she knew enough about the Warden to convince her that she had some form of other-worldly knowledge.

Varric, on the other hand, seemed more or less how she expected. (If one can expect such things.)

“Noelle!” She found herself accosted by a hug. She froze. Who here knew her? Her assailant pulled away and she saw it was the scout she had saved.

“Hi, Jim. You look better.”

“All healed, miss. Once I got to the healers it was easy. Just a little latent soreness and stiffness.”

“Jim will escort you to Commander Cullen. He has someone assigned to you. You are free but you will be watched for now.”

“Commander Cullen? I thought the Commander’s name was Ruther- Wait. Cullen Rutherford? Not the Knight-Captain from Kirkwall?”

Leliana looked at her strangely. “You know so much and yet this is a surprise?”

Noelle shook her head. “He looks... different. Well, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is Maxwell Trevelyan?  
> \- A stoic warrior who hid his joy and humor to be acceptable to his family  
> \- A spoiled rogue who is accustomed to the finer things in life  
> \- **A sardonic mage who uses their sense of humor to hide their fear** Winner! (47%)
> 
> What was Noelle’s occupation on Earth?  
> \- **Physiotherapist (Will work with injured soldiers/inner circle)** Winner! (54%)  
>  \- Police Detective (Will work for Leliana and spy)  
> \- Social Media Consultant (Will work with Josie and make propaganda)  
> How does Noelle feel about Cullen?  
> \- **That fucking asshole! Turning on Meredith doesn’t undo everything else he has said and done!** Winner! (55%)  
>  \- I mean, he wasn’t wrong about the dangers of mages, and he knew where to draw the line?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed what I eventually put together! I know Jim didn't QUITE pull through in the way that was implied by the question but I couldn't make it work in a logical way so I had him bring it as far as possible.
> 
> How are you enjoying the voting thing so far? Are you frequently in the majority or not? What did you choose this week, and why?
> 
> Sidenote: Voting might remain open until Sunday this week as I may be out of cell range and unable to close them on Saturday.


	6. A Path Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is Maxwell Trevelyan?  
> \- A stoic warrior who hid his joy and humor to be acceptable to his family  
> \- A spoiled rogue who is accustomed to the finer things in life  
>  **\- A sardonic mage who uses their sense of humor to hide their fear** Winner! (47%)
> 
> What was Noelle’s occupation on Earth?  
>  **\- Physiotherapist (Will work with injured soldiers/inner circle)** Winner! (54%)  
>  \- Police Detective (Will work for Leliana and spy)  
> \- Social Media Consultant (Will work with Josie and make propaganda)
> 
> How does Noelle feel about Cullen?  
>  **\- That fucking asshole! Turning on Meredith doesn’t undo everything else he has said and done!** Winner! (55%)  
>  \- I mean, he wasn’t wrong about the dangers of mages, and he knew where to draw the line?

I can't draw for shit but y'all voted for a specific look (or, rather, you mostly voted for two but one just barely won out) so I thought you deserved something a bit more tangible. Here's my best approximation of what you created using the DAI character creator (and some mods because Bioware sucks at offering curly hair and freckles).

Jim prattled on as Noelle followed, telling her all about working as a scout for Leliana. Mostly he relayed messages but he hoped he’d be able to do more actual scouting work in the future. His mother would have been proud of him, he told her. He was less sure about his dad. She wasn’t sure why he felt the need to exposit his life story to her, but it was kind of endearing. He was so earnest and hopeful.

It was probably a good thing that he was earnest enough not to open the missives he delivered all over or he’d likely be telling her about the content of those as well.

“Anyways, my lady, the Commander is over there but I never really thanked you for saving my life and I just wanted you to know that I won’t forget it and also that I admire you for taking on that demon and…” His chattering trailed off into a brightly flushed face. “You just seem like a really nice person.”

Noelle smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Thanks, Jim. I like you a lot too.”

He nodded and his face flushed even more before he abruptly pivoted and marched the last few steps towards the Commander. “Commander Rutherford. I have Lady Noelle here for you, Ser.”

“Thank you. You are dismissed, Scout.” Jim saluted and marched off as Cullen turned his gaze to Noelle. She felt his gaze sweeping over her, assessing, and fought the urge to look away or blush. Instead she stared at him defiantly. Who was he to judge her anyways?

“It’s, uhh, nice to see you out of the prison.” Noelle said nothing but she felt her gaze grow stonier. He had done nothing but insist she needed to be locked up and watched since she got here so she was hardly going to take his words at face value. He examined her gaze, his brows furrowing slightly in thought. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

She let out a breathy noise from the back of her throat that was almost a laugh. “Should I?” She scoffed. “I know who you are, Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford of Kirkwall and I don’t generally like people who imprison others because they were born a certain way or advocate killing them because they _might_ be dangerous. So, no, I wouldn’t say I do like you very much.”

She expected him to yell back at her about the dangers of mages and the honour of the Templars but he only looked surprised before bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. The movement reminded her a bit of the awkward boy in Origins who ran away when her Surana tried to flirt with him, which in turn reminded her of what had happened to him in Kinloch. Still, fear is not an excuse for hate and does not excuse his actions whatsoever.

“Leliana mentioned you claim to have read about us in stories. I imagine I did not come off well in them.” He spoke slowly, as if processing as he uttered each word.

“No. You did not.”

He nodded, his mouth pressed into a firm line. “Then I will not burden you further with my presence. Lieutenant Rylen will be looking after you today.”

“You mean guarding me.”

“If you prefer.” He gestured for the other man to come over. “Guarding can be a form of protection as well,” he murmured before moving off. She wasn’t sure if he was addressing her or simply convincing himself.

“G’morning, lass. It seems you’re stuck with me again for the day.”

“I could think of worse people to be stuck with,” she quipped, but her voice faltered at the end. _Wasn’t Rylen a Templar as well? Was he really any better than Cullen just because he put a friendlier face on it?_ She hesitantly resolved to be open enough to find out.

Rylen didn’t seem to notice. “I feel the same way. I’d much rather spend the day with a pretty girl than with those addle-headed numpties.” He winked at her as he gestured behind him to a group of soldiers that Cullen appeared to be training. “Half of ‘em don’t even know what end of a sword to hold, nevermind where to stick it.”

Noelle burst out laughing and Rylen grinned, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Isn’t it your responsibility to teach them, then?” She eventually managed to ask.

“Aye.” He smiled again, but a little sadly this time. “In truth, they’re not so bad. They’re just boys and we’ve all got to start somewhere. Still,” he replaced his expression with something a little cheekier. “One gets tired of being a man among a group o’boys and eventually wants for more interesting company.”

Noelle felt herself blushing a little. This man was ridiculously charming. She briefly wondered if he was a romance option in the third game and wished she hadn’t kept herself spoiler-free so fervently.

“Shall we get a little breakfast? I’d wager you’re a mite hungry. They don’t feed the most appetizing stuff to the prisoners.”

“That would be amazing.”

Noelle wasn’t sure if it was simply because she was so ravenous but the food being served to the soldiers seemed hearty, plentiful and delicious. It struck her that it must be quintessentially Ferelden, as well. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was certain that whoever they had brought to cook for all these men was from that side of the border. Potatoes covered with gravy, likely cooked down from last night’s leftover stew broth, with slices of peach and some sort of salty, cured meat. She wouldn’t have minded a cup of coffee to go with it but water would have to do. She swapped Rylen a slice of her meat for one of his peaches, which seemed to please him. She’d never been much of a meat eater anyways.

She couldn’t help but watch him closely as they ate and chatted. He kept rolling his shoulder and she could hear tight popping noises even through the grind of his armour. “Do you want me to take a look at that?” She finally asked when a particularly warped grimace accompanied his shifting.

“Take a look at what exactly?”

“Your shoulder.”

“Oh, that. Nah. It’s an old injury, long since healed. Not much can be done about it now. Are you a healer, lass? Uh. Noelle.”

“I’m a physiotherapist.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of that before.”

“I help people recover mobility and strength after an injury like a sprain, a fracture, or repetitive strain. That kind of thing.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Sounds useful.”

“It is at home. Of course, we don’t have magic to heal things where I’m from. Actually, can’t you just go to a healer and have them magic it better?”

“Magic can’t heal what I’ve got. There’s nothing injured to heal, really. Just leftover pains or something. Can you really make it better?”

Noelle shrugged. “I mean, it’s not an instant cure. It takes time and commitment to following my instructions on your part.”

“I’ll try anything. It’s been getting worse for years now. At this pace, it won’t be long before I can barely lift it.”

“Well, wearing all that damned armour certainly isn’t helping. I imagine that part’s not exactly negotiable, huh?”

“Not at least until we settle this war and catch whoever blew up the Temple.”

She nodded. “Alright. Well, armour off for now anyways. I’ll need to get a good look at it.”

Rylen began unbuckling and shucking his armour. Before she had a chance to tell him it was unnecessary (or perhaps she didn’t bother to, she wasn’t certain herself), he had also peeled off his undershirt to reveal a plane of tight muscles. Noelle had worked with a number of fit men over the years: Men who played sports semi-professionally, men who spent their free time lifting weights, men who measured their macros for the perfect balance of muscle and size. This was different. Rylen had the type of muscle that came from doing hard labour day in and day out. Just wearing that armour all day was likely enough of a work out to exhaust most men.

She tried not to stare. She honestly did.

He caught her looking and chuckled. “Do I need to blindfold you so you can do your work, Noelle?”

She blushed fiercely. “No. I’m fine. You’re hardly the first man I’ve seen shirtless, Lieutenant. I’m simply looking for problem areas.”

“Sure you are,” he teased.

She did her best to ignore him and started looking at his shoulder, rotating his arm and checking for mobility. She made little noises of disapproval as she did so. He really was a complete mess, in her professional medical opinion. The noises were instinctive, she always had a hard time staying silent, but they also helped her zone in and block out the curious faces peering at the strange examination in the middle of the mess tent. “This has been dislocated more than once, hasn’t it?”

“Er- Come again now?”

“Your shoulder has come out of the socket?”

“Oh. Yes. I think three times. No big deal. Just popped it back in and dealt with the soreness for a couple days.”

“Actually, Rylen. It is a big deal. I assume this is your shield arm?” He grunted an affirmation. “It holds up a lot of weight, doesn’t get a lot of movement, and regularly deals with major impacts. Your muscles are overcompensating to try and keep it from dislocating again. There’s fibrosis from previous trauma as well. You only have about sixty percent of the mobility you should here.”

“Sounds like you’re saying it’s complete rubbish.”

“More or less.” Noelle began to massage the affected area, working out some of the worst knots as best she could. Rylen let out a low, rumbling groan that made her toes tingle. “I’m going to give you some exercises that I want you to do every morning before you put on your armour and every evening when you take it off.”

“Uh huh.” He was scarcely listening.

“Rylen.” She dug her fingers in a little deeper, causing him to hiss in surprise as the pain crossed over from agonizingly good to too much, before resuming her previous level of pressure. “I’m serious. Every day. Twice a day. If you’re good, I’ll do this for you again in three days - and I will know.”

“Aye, lass. I’ll do whatever you ask,” he moaned. Tingles again. This time they hovered a little more centrally. She dropped her hands to his arm and began to show him the exercises and stretches she wanted him to do as a distraction.

\--

Solas had been waiting for her to finish breakfast with the Templar so he could get a look at her. At first, he had thought nothing of the fact that the soldiers claimed another person had fallen through a tear in the veil. They must have been mistaken, and since she did not carry his mark then she was of little interest. Now though, now she claimed to be from another world and that was interesting after all. Perhaps she was some sort of newly born spirit who had crossed over and did not yet understand the nature of her reality?

He waited patiently, noting that they should be long finished breakfast by now but feeling relatively unperturbed by the wait. His best bet for fixing the problem he had created was currently unconscious and he was certain he would be stopped if he tried to leave the village, leaving him with little to do but wait and plan.

Eventually the pair exited the large fabric structure being used as an informal dining hall and he got his first look at her. She seemed to be an utterly normal human. Still, he needed to know more.

“Good day, Lieutenant,” he said as he approached, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “I was hoping for the opportunity to speak with our visitor.”

“Aye. Noelle, this is Solas. He knows a good bit about the hole in the sky.” Solas almost chuckled at the description.

The woman turned her eyes to him. They were sharp and assessing and he found himself thinking she must be more intelligent than most of the inhabitants of this time that he had met so far. Of course, he had nothing to back up that claim.

She stepped forward and held her hand out in greeting. At her movement he caught a whiff of the Fade. It wafted off her skin like fresh perfume and he breathed it in deeply. Strange that she should still smell so strongly of it when Trevelyan had already returned to smelling of dirt and sweat. He realized too late that he was being rude when her hand dropped.

“I apologize. I was lost in thought for a moment.”

“And here I thought _you_ wanted to speak to _me_ ,” she chided gently, a soft smirk playing out on her lips.

“I do.” He looked to the Templar. “Though perhaps we could speak at a time which is more convenient.” By which he of course meant ‘when you are not being watched at every moment’.

To his great surprise she laughed. “I’m not sure anything about my presence here is convenient, Solas. Perhaps you will have better luck convincing the powers that be than I have.” He stepped backwards, disarmed by her scent, by her sense of humour. His brain felt clouded, lacking the clarity he had approached the conversation with.

“We are on our way to the healer’s tent. You are welcome to accompany us.” The Templar’s voice brought things back into focus.

“No. Thank you. Another time perhaps.”

He left, quickly, and resolved to find a way to get her alone and find out just who she was. The mystery had suddenly become infuriating.

\--

Rylen held the tent flap open for her. “This is it.”

He watched her eyes scan over the cots. Many were still filled with men recovering from fighting demons for days when the Breach was spitting them in great numbers from the sky. Potions had all but run out, leaving their one mage healer exhausted from depleting her mana and the non-magical healers running about trying their best to pick up the slack. He distinctly remembered the grey pallor on the surgeon’s face after the fifth man died on her operating table that day. Was that truly only a couple days ago?

Her eyes drifted towards the shelves, mostly emptied of potions and herbs, down to a washbasin that inexplicably brought a smile to her face, then over to the three healers currently engaged in a hushed conversation at the far end of the structure. One of them looked over. “How can I help you, Lieutenant?” She smiled coyly and smoothed the front of her smock idly.

Aye. He remembered this one from his own recent injury. It hadn't been an altogether terrible experience.

“This here is Noelle. She’s a fissotherapressed-”

“Physiotherapist,” she corrected gently.

“Physiotherapist. I said I’d bring her by to have a look at our set up here, see if she could be of any use to you.”

The head healer, the surgeon, looked Noelle up and down skeptically. “What can you do?” She asked. “You know magic?”

Noelle shook her head. “No. No magic. I mostly focus on recovery of mobility, strength, and stability after injury. I can help soldiers and scouts get back on their feet, so to speak, after the worst of their injuries are treated. I also have a good knowledge of anatomy. I know first aid and did some paramedic training. I can certainly assist in an emergency situation, though I’m not a surgeon by any means and my diagnostic skills are limited beyond muscle and ligament injuries. I’m afraid you’d also have to update me on your potions and herbs. They’re different where I’m from.”

The surgeon crossed her arms. “Hmph. Might be we can use you. Maker knows I’d like to get a few of these men out of my cots and back to their own beds. In any case, we can always use an extra set of hands to bathe ‘em and change out their bedpans.”

Rylen nearly snorted in laughter but he didn’t want a smack upside the head so he swallowed it. The woman wasn’t lying about the bedpans, but he also knew she was putting it front and centre as a sort of test. She was about as blunt as they make ‘em - save perhaps the Seeker.

Noelle shrugged. He’d noticed she liked to do that before asserting some ability or acquiescence, almost as though she were undermining herself before she even began. “I did as much during a practicum stint in palliative. When you’re understaffed, you share the load.”

Rylen only understood half those words but the tone was clear: she was more or less up for it.

A voice sounded beside him. “Lieutenant, message from Commander Cullen, Ser.” A scout, a girl that Rylen didn’t recognize, handed over a piece of parchment. “He needs you to take over his duties for the afternoon. The Herald is awake.”

Well, that was notable. The parchment simply held a list of tasks that needed completing and said nothing about the woman. Likely the Commander had plum forgotten about her. He reviewed what needed doing and he could hardly bring her about on this business. “Stay here,” he ordered and left her in the care of the healers, hoping the decision wouldn’t come back to bite him in the arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does Noelle feel about the fact that Varric misled her in the prison?  
> \- **She gets it. Of course they needed to suss her out. She’s just glad to see a (mostly) friendly face** Winner! (57%)  
>  \- She’s hurt. She thought of Varric as a friend because of DA2 and the first thing he did was trick her
> 
> Can Solas feel Noelle as a person or does she feel like another “Tranquil”?  
> \- **Yes, even though she cannot manipulate it (use magic), she is connected to the Fade and he can feel her as a full person because of it** Winner! (73%)  
>  \- No, she seems just like every other person to him
> 
> Are there other people from Earth who have been transported to Thedas?  
> \- **Yes** Tied! (50%)  
>  \- **No** Tied! (50%)
> 
>  
> 
> As always, I want to hear your thoughts! Votes are great, comments are love! Even constructive criticism is appreciated! What is working about how this project is going along? What is working less well? Anything you'd like to see more/less of?


	7. A Curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does Noelle feel about the fact that Varric misled her in the prison?  
> \- **She gets it. Of course they needed to suss her out. She’s just glad to see a (mostly) friendly face** Winner! (57%)  
>  \- She’s hurt. She thought of Varric as a friend because of DA2 and the first thing he did was trick her
> 
> Can Solas feel Noelle as a person or does she feel like another “Tranquil”?  
> \- **Yes, even though she cannot manipulate it (use magic), she is connected to the Fade and he can feel her as a full person because of it** Winner! (73%)  
>  \- No, she seems just like every other person to him
> 
> Are there other people from Earth who have been transported to Thedas?  
> \- **Yes** Tied! (50%)  
>  \- **No** Tied! (50%)
> 
> It finally happened! Our first tie. I considered randomizing it but I decided to just choose in the (hopefully) rare cases that this happens. So, yup, there are other people from Earth in Thedas. They won't show up for a bit though and won't be a major plot element :)  
> Speaking of ties. We almost had a tie re:Noelle's appearance a few chapters ago. I took the second place description as inspiration for Maxwell's appearance. So, he has straight, black hair - A little long. Dark, olive skin. Hazel eyes. He's not 'curvy' because men don't tend to carry weight that way but he has some extra huggable padding.
> 
> \--

Noelle looked awkwardly at the healers surrounding her and shrugged. The older of the two women tutted disapprovingly at the now empty entrance. “It seems we’re stuck with you whether we want you or not. Well, come along then. You can hardly treat patients in that.”

Noelle looked down and blushed. She had been wearing her already threadbare pyjamas for days now and still had no shoes. Evidently being released from prison did not come with a trip to the mall. “I am Jana but you can call me Surgeon. Everyone does,” she said as she handed Noelle a matching smock to the one she was wearing. “This is Henrietta and this is Yasin.” The woman looked down at Noelle’s feet and reached under a table, pulling out a pair of clogs. “You cannot go about barefoot. These will be a bit large on you but you may use them for now. I always keep an extra set of shoes for when my feet begin to ache.”

Noelle found herself liking this women, who was no nonsense and brusque and also practical and open. She was given a tie for her hair. “You will bathe before you report here again,” she was instructed.

“No complaints here,” she muttered. She felt disgusting.

She washed her hands and forearms as best she could in the washbasin. She wasn’t sure what the soap was made from and the still water was slightly cloudy, but it was certainly better than nothing.

Emma assisted as best she could through the day, providing an extra set of hands and asking questions as they came up. She helped a soldier practice walking a few steps and gave him some exercises to strengthen his leg and gain more lateral support from a seated or reclined position. She changed a man’s bandages, flushing his wound with water and examining its raised red edges with concern. It seemed to be infected but Surgeon was unconcerned and merely thanked her for pointing it out. She somehow managed to get away with only having to change one bedpan and learned where the latrines were in the process.

She very much liked the whole team. Surgeon was exactly as she presented and commanded the tent with a simple word. Henrietta was effervescent, bringing smiles to all the patients’ faces - especially one or two whom Noelle thought might be a little disappointed to heal overly quickly. Yasin was quiet and thoughtful. He occasionally trotted off after treating a patient to jot notes in a book and his keen eyes seemed to catch even minor changes. Noelle had no doubt he was smarter, or at least more observant, than any of the rest of them after only a couple hours. Not as good with the patients though. Too quiet.

She didn’t realize how hungry she was until lunch was delivered. Two elven boys of perhaps eleven or twelve brought trays of thick bread and bits of fruit and hard cheeses. The patients and the healers ate together and Henrietta chatted throughout making the whole event feel cozy and familial. 

A while after lunch, a woman dressed in robes entered. Dark circles ringed her eyes and she appeared as though she were wasting away. Surgeon moved to her side quickly. “Only one today.”

The woman nodded slowly and followed Surgeon to the soldier Noelle whose bandages she had changed. “New girl caught it,” Surgeon was saying. “It will need magical intervention or it will continue to worsen.” Noelle watched as the woman began casting magic over the soldier’s injury, a cool blue light washing over his chest and he sighed with a kind of contented pleasure. _Oh._   _So that's how they deal with infection._

The woman wobbled as the light receded. Surgeon reached out an arm to steady her. “Threnn says the lyrium shipment could arrive as early as tomorrow. Go, rest more.”

Noelle watched her leave and turned a questioning gaze to Henrietta who was pouting sympathetically at the retreating figure. “Poor thing. Her mana is all but drained and she’s so weak that she barely recovers any as she sleeps.”

“She needs lyrium potions to help recover it,” Noelle said slowly as she put the pieces together.

"Or to use no magic at all for a few days."

“Noelle.” Surgeon commanded rather than called for her attention. “Fetch a restoration potion from the shelf for this man.”

She did as told, quickly grabbing a (thankfully well-labelled) potion from where she was standing and bringing it to the patient.

From behind her a voice cracked, thunderous and angry. “Where is she?”

She felt herself nearly jump out of her skin and realized too late that the potion was making its way to the floor and shattering, it’s contents lost to the dirt. She spun around to see Cullen Rutherford practically snarling in the tent entrance.

“Commander,” Surgeon snapped, her voice at volume significantly lower than his but demanding the same level of attention. “This is a place of healing and there are patients sleeping at all times of the day. I would thank you to keep your voice down.”

She looked towards Noelle. “She is right here.” Her eyes drifted down to the wasted potion and she made a sharp noise of disapproval. “Look what you’ve done.” Noelle flushed bright with guilt but Surgeon had redirected her attention to the Commander. “You barge in here yelling up a storm and expect not to break something? We’re on limited supplies here and I expect you to behave more cautiously in future.”

Noelle stared, enjoying the sight of a commander of armies, of this one in particular, being laid out by this woman. His face was bashful and she was surprised he let her speak to him that way. Wouldn’t he have a higher rank than her?

“Yes, well. Certainly.” He coughed awkwardly. “I will. Sorry.”

He turned to Noelle, suddenly standing a bit straighter, a bit stiffer. “I’m pleased you saw sense in staying put. You will come with me now. The Herald wishes to speak with you.”

“Very well.” Noelle removed her smock and shoes and returned them to Surgeon. She saw no sense in arguing, even though every word grated on her and urged her to tell him to fuck right off. 

“Oh, and Commander,” Surgeon said as they moved to leave. “When you return her tomorrow, she will be bathed and dressed appropriately.” The words were said as though there was no question as to whether she  _ would  _ be returning and in that moment, Noelle loved her for it. Cullen nodded, taking Noelle by the arm and walking her out.

“I am capable of walking independently, Knight-Captain. Unless you are so uncertain of your ability to catch a barefoot woman in bed clothes that you must maintain this vice-grip on my arm.”

He winced. “Please do not call me that. I am no longer associated with the Templars.”

_ Oh. That's unexpected. _

He sighed and released her arm. “I apologize. You remained where you were instructed and have earned more trust than this. You were even helpful if Surgeon’s claiming of you is anything to go on. These are dangerous times and I’m afraid I find it difficult not to be overly cautious.”

She had nothing to say. She did not forgive him. She was too angry on behalf of mages across Thedas to forgive him, for his past or for his treatment of her. They walked together in silence.

A small cabin was evidently their destination. Noelle stepped inside where a man sat at a small table, writing a letter. His shaggy black hair cast a shadow over his face as he continued to look down at his work.

“Herald. This is the pri- Noelle.”

The man raised hazel eyes to hers and smiled. He stood and offered his hand. “Maxwell Trevelyan. Supposed Herald of Andraste.”

She took it. His hand was cold, despite the fire warming his cabin. She looked down at where his brown skin contrasted her own pale tone, as though to search for an explanation. There was none, of course. “Noelle Williams. No title that I’m aware of, umm, Lord Herald.”

He grinned and gestured for her to sit. “You can call me Trevelyan.” He frowned looking around. “Commander, I’m afraid there aren’t enough chairs for all of us.”

“I can stand, Herald.”

“Yes, you Templars are quite good at hovering over proceedings aren’t you?” Noelle felt the awkward pause in her gut. She didn’t dare breathe, never mind let out the laugh that tickled at the edges of her false poise. “Sorry,” he sighed. “Prejudice can be difficult to overcome. I will endeavour to do better. Here, take my seat.”

“That is unnecessary, Herald. Apology accepted. I know better than most the difficulty of putting aside pre-judgment.”

It almost felt like a miniature roleplay to scold her for her treatment of Cullen based on her history with the games, but the distance and stiff formality between them was not faked.

“Noelle, I understand you also fell from a Fade rift.”

“So they tell me.”

“Ah.” His eyes flickered downward. “I take it that means my optimistic hope that you recollected anything that might help with my own memories was a fantastical one.”

“Probably. I remember being at home, a storm, and then waking here with a killer headache.”

“Home being another world, if you are to be believed.”

“Best I can figure,” she shrugged.

He nodded thoughtfully before a sly smile replaced the expression. “You didn’t happen to read about the goings on in Ostwick Circle from your other world, did you?”

“No. I don’t think so. I know some stuff about the Gallows from the story of the Champion of Kirkwall and some stuff about Kinloch Hold because of the Hero of Ferelden.”

Cullen’s face blanched. Noelle noticed and ignored him. It hadn’t been her intention to make him explicitly uncomfortable, but it also wasn’t her concern.

Trevelyan grinned at her. “Good. I’d hardly be able to make a good impression if you knew about all my troublemaking over there.”

\--

Cullen didn’t pay much attention as Threnn loaded Noelle's arms with appropriate clothing and personal items. He was looking around for Lysette or Cassandra. Anyone senior enough to be trusted with guarding her while also being a woman. Josephine might even work if he waited outside to provide extra muscle. He was certain Leliana would decline to spend her time on such a task.

Maker help him, he did not want to have to accompany this woman to the baths. She already made him uncomfortable enough with her judgment and scorn. He had no desire to add a knowledge of how she appeared naked to the list of reasons he kept blushing around her.

He briefly considered asking Surgeon but the woman terrified him and it seemed possible she would be just as likely to help Noelle escape as to stop her from it.

Just how _had_ he wound up escorting her around Haven, not hours after the Inquisition was formally announced and he became the official commander of its armies? This type of task would be for a simple guardsman if not for her unique circumstances. He resigned himself to it. It was his own fault for not leaving explicit instructions with Rylen.

“Now what?” Her voice jerked him away from his meandering thoughts as she stood before him with her bundle of items.

“The baths,” he sighed.

They were communal, but separated by a partition for men and women. He felt like a lecher escorting her to the woman’s side but thankfully there was only one other woman present at the far end: an older woman who he recognized as a Haven resident. Her daughter had taken a position in the laundry once the army moved in. He gestured for Noelle to go ahead as she simply stood next to him, doing nothing.

“You must be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I am not. You need to bathe and there is no one else available at the present time.”

“Is this what you do in the Circles? Force the mages to strip in front of you so you can eye them with impunity?”

“Of course not!”  _ Were those really the types of rumours that existed about Templars? Did that go on in certain Circles? _

“Then why the fuck do you think it’s okay now?”

“Because these bathhouses are intended for civilians and don’t have the security of a Circle bath.”

The look she gave him was cold fury. Obstinate. She didn’t want him looking but she wasn’t going to hide either. She looked right in his eye as she reached down and grabbed the hem of what passed for her shirt and began to pull upwards.

He spun around. “Maker’s breath,” he muttered. He was such a coward. Sometimes he wasn’t sure what Cassandra saw in him. 

“Thank you.” The voice sounded a bit off, like she was surprised to find that he had turned when she emerged from her shirt and wasn’t certain what to make of it. He heard a light splash as she entered the water.  _ Well, at least she was doing that much.  _ A momentary flash of what she might look like, naked and lowering herself into the warm water passed through his head. Perhaps it was best that he had turned around after all.

He cleared his throat. “It would be helpful if you spoke with me so I know where you are.”

“I’m not sure I have much to say to you, Commander.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“And yet, here we are,” she repeated, her breath a tired sigh. “Tell me more about this Inquisition. What are your plans?”

“Well, the Divine wished for us to bring peace if talks at the Conclave between the rebel mages and the Templars were unsuccessful.”

“I like how mages run away from their jailers and get called rebels while the Templars who abandoned the Chantry and ignored the Divine’s wishes, choosing to hunt them across the country maintain the title of Templars.”

“I- Uhh. You’re right. Both parties are undoubtedly in the wrong. And I’m sure the civilians caught up in the chaos of their war care little for their justifications and moral reasoning.”

Silence.

“Noelle?”

“I’m here.”

“Of course, with the explosion and the Breach in the sky, our priority must be closing it and also finding the person responsible.”

“Big task.”

“Yes. It feels almost impossible. Yet, I have faith in Cassandra and we have the Herald now.”

She laughed. It was light and small and he wasn’t sure if it was at him or the situation.

“What did he say you’ve dubbed him? The ‘Herald of Andraste’? It’s funny, I never believed in any of the gods where I’m from and now I’m here and you tell me you have an envoy of the Maker’s Bride and I think I believe you.”

“Noelle?” He began, his voice pushing forward while his mind screamed that he didn’t want the answer to the question he was about to ask.

“Hmm?”

He had to know. For some reason, he needed it. “Do you hate all Templars or is it me in particular?”

“Huh. I hadn’t really thought about it much. Probably a bit of both.”

His shoulders slumped.  _ Are you happy now?  _ He wasn’t sure what he was expecting or what he thought he’d feel about the answer. It was simply an itch he couldn’t help but scratch.  _ Idiot.  _

He heard the water splash and drip on the floor as she rose out of the bath. The rustle of clothing. A small part of him hoped she would never finish dressing so he didn’t have to face her again.

“I’m finished,” she announced.

He turned around.

\--

The cold Haven air was a shock when she stepped out of the baths after the Commander. Her wet hair quickly felt like ice around her shoulders and she squeezed at it with the small towel. 

She wasn’t sure where they were going. Cullen hadn’t said a word to her since they exited and she followed him through the village silently. It wasn’t as if she had much choice in the matter. Even if she did, where would they go? At least here, with Varric and Leliana, she was fairly sure she’d be protected and was on the right side of the brewing conflict. Save the world, sure sounded like some hero shit she was now tangled up in. 

“Hey! Noelle, right?” She looked up at Varric’s friendly face waving her over.

“We don’t have time,” Cullen grumbled. She ignored him and walked straight to the dwarf. Perhaps he should have kept a hand on her arm after all. She heard him follow.

“Look, I hope there’s no hard feelings about…” He gestured in the direction of the jail.

“I understand. Besides," she grinned. "You’re Varric Tethras. How could I possibly be upset with you?”

“Sure is a weird backstory you’ve got there, being from another world.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

“Nah. I do, but damn. I said it to the Herald and I’ll say it to you: you really ought to learn to lie. It’s incredibly useful.”

She laughed. It was such quintessentially Varric advice. “I’ll keep that in mind. Perhaps you could give me some lessons?”

“As soon as Curly here lets out your chain a little bit.”

The man in question glowered and Noelle wasn’t sure if it was about the nickname or the implication that she was chained up. Either barb she figured was probably deserved.

“We really do have to get going. Have a good evening, Varric.”

Noelle looked at him and sighed but his hand once again on her arm felt like too much to fight right now and she let him guide her away. Suddenly, a strange sensation rippled its way down her spine and she shivered. It felt like someone was watching her, and yet it was a vaguely pleasant feeling. She looked at Varric but he was pulling something out of a crate. She looked around briefly but saw no one close by that was paying her any mind. Strange. She’d never felt anything like it before. It must just be stress from the events of the past few days.

\--

Solas stopped short when he saw her again. He’d been busy and distracted, speaking with the Herald about the mark and repeating his preemptive explanations about his journeys through the Fade. He seemed to take everything in and accept it as stated, a decided positive considering that imminent crisis was no longer tilting things in the favour of ‘believe the apostate without question if he says he can help’. He had been slightly concerned that the mage would ask a question to which he did not have a ready response, but it did not happen. He had, of course, overestimated the humans. They rarely surprised him.

He was surprised to see her though, not that it was her doing. He had simply been deep in thought and she almost blended in now that she was dressed in more appropriate garb. Almost.

She was with a distinctly irritated and tired looking Commander and the dwarf, Varric. Solas could almost bring himself to like that one. He occasionally had insight one would not expect from a dwarf. 

This was a good opportunity to take a proper look at her. He should have done it before but he hadn’t thought it worth his effort until he smelled the Fade all over her and then he had been too startled to think of it. He’d seen her with his eyes, of course, but not with the part of him that could find the truth of things He opened himself up and reached out with his mana towards her, to really look at her, and his heart began racing before he’d truly processed what he was seeing.

She was surrounded by the Fade. It draped itself over her like a cloak, moving when she moved and swirling around her affectionately. He hadn’t seen such a thing since before he raised the Veil. Since it was commonplace.

She laughed at some quip Varric made and he saw the Fade respond, rippling and changing around her. It made its way to him and he felt the quiver of her amusement envelop him. He must be mistaken. His wishful thinking has led him to imagine things.

The Commander said something and she turned towards him. Disappointed. Annoyed. He felt each of these as clearly as though they were his own emotions. 

He has to sit down.

He has to talk to her alone.

He watched as the Commander escorted her onwards and let out a quiet growl of frustration. He followed them with his eyes, sending a pulse of recognition and relief towards her as an overture. An introduction. 

She faltered and looked around in confusion. Shook her head. Continued. Solas gripped his staff a little harder, leaning on it for support. He can hardly fathom it.

_ She is real. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #sorrynotsorry about torturing Cullen - it's maybe one of my favourite past times. Also, I (unironically) love the 'accidentally walks in on naked trope' that shows up so often in fanfic and had fun turning it around a bit.
> 
> Hopefully the hand-waving Solas magic bit worked okay. It's tough when you have to make up how things work and to make it feel canon-friendly/believable. I do okay?
> 
> Now.
> 
> Let's flush out Noelle's character a bit, y'all! Red-headed physiotherapist isn't exactly a personality. I mean, I made her swear a lot and we know she's a mage defender and not shy about voicing her opinions but let's be a little more purposeful about this!
> 
> Noelle will want to learn to defend herself. Who does she ask for help?  
> \- **Scout Jim to teach her to use a bow** Winner! (65%)  
>  \- Lieutenant Rylen to teach her to use a sword
> 
> What is Noelle’s biggest challenge?  
> \- Depression and anxiety  
> \- **Developing trust in others** Winner! (53%)  
>  \- Believing in herself
> 
> What is Noelle’s ‘Disney Princess’ flaw?  
> \- Clumsiness  
> \- Naivety  
> \- **Stubbornness** Winner! (71%)
> 
> Comment and give me your feedback and thoughts! Also, come visit me on [Tumblr!](https://kimpossibility.tumblr.com/)


	8. A Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noelle will want to learn to defend herself. Who does she ask for help?  
> \- **Scout Jim to teach her to use a bow** Winner! (65%)  
>  \- Lieutenant Rylen to teach her to use a sword
> 
> What is Noelle’s biggest challenge?  
> \- Depression and anxiety  
> \- **Developing trust in others** Winner! (53%)  
>  \- Believing in herself
> 
> What is Noelle’s ‘Disney Princess’ flaw?  
> \- Clumsiness  
> \- Naivety  
> \- **Stubbornness** Winner! (71%)  
>  \--

Noelle was put into the women’s barracks to sleep for the night. A combination of cots and bedrolls lined each side of the tent and Noelle was directed to a bedroll at the very end. She was pleased because it gave a modicum of privacy but it was likely chosen because it meant she would have to pass every other soldier in the large structure before she could exit.

The Commander took a woman aside who appeared to be someone of rank, speaking quietly to her, and Noelle felt certain he was giving explicit instructions to watch her. She pointedly ignored his distrust and proceeded to settle into her spot for the night. It had been a stressful and long day, after all.

Her dreams were strange that night. She dreamed of the handsome, bald elf that she met earlier that day and it felt so real that at first she forgot that she had already gone to bed and must, therefore, be dreaming. She was in Haven, but it was empty save the two of them. He strode down the road towards her, gathering her face into his hands. “I am amazed,” he’d said. “I had given up hope.”

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I am like you. Can you not sense it?”

She’d scrunched her nose and pulled his hands from her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes had flashed with irritation and he had huffed his impatience loudly. She had felt then, a sensation of interest and of excitement that both ran through her and was separate from her. “Do you understand now?” At her silence and furrowed brow, he continued. “You must have felt it.”

“I felt something... but I think I understand even less.”

“Find me when you wake and we will talk.”

He wandered away, stiffness in his gait, and as he drew farther from her, Haven faded. She couldn’t recollect what it faded into, if anything. It was strange; there was no reason for her to dream of the elf and it felt so substantial. It stuck with her through the morning as she dressed in a light blue tunic and tan hide leggings given to her from Threnn. They seemed relatively new but the boots she was given were well worn and she tried not think about the dead scout they’d likely been salvaged from. Breakfast was eaten silently across from one of the women who slept in her tent. It was the same one Cullen had spoken to the previous night and she had clearly been instructed to keep an eye on her. Noelle was pretty certain she had introduced herself but she’d been too distracted replaying parts of her dream. 

She was deposited at the healer’s tent where Surgeon nodded at her and chucked a fresh smock her way. 

“Your hair is so beautiful, all clean and fluffy,” Henrietta whispered as she breezed past Noelle with a tray of suturing tools. Noelle blushed, pulling the smock over her tunic and hustling to make herself useful. A few soldiers were sent off that day and it was nice to see the little clinic emptying. Another patient had developed a fever and Yasin declared he had become worse overnight before he left them to get some sleep.

The day was fairly quiet and Noelle spent most of it actually supporting soldiers in recovery from injury while Surgeon stocked and organized supplies and Henrietta gossiped with patients as she administered sponge baths and bandage changes. For a moment, Noelle almost thought she could get used to this before the reality of her existence in  _ motherfucking Thedas  _ came smashing back to her. She missed the bright lights and clean surfaces of her own practice. She missed her sister. Even though she’d spoken to her on the phone just a few days ago, it felt like a complete lifetime had passed without her. She missed her fiance, even though they had split up, and her parents, even though she hadn’t seen them in a year.

“Where do you need me,” a voice from behind her croaked.

“We have a fever at the far end,” Surgeon responded hesitantly. “It can wait. You should rest more. We’ll see how you’re doing in the evening, or tomorrow.”

“No. A fever can kill quickly and without warning.” The mage shuffled her way across the tent, her bronze skin appearing ashen despite the warm lighting.

“Talia. I recommend conserving your mana for now.” Surgeon’s lips were pressed together tightly but the woman waved her away. 

Her hands hovered around the patient’s head. The man himself was barely lucid and had been slipping in and out of consciousness. Noelle turned her attention back to her own patient just in time to hear a loud crash and Surgeon yelling Talia’s name. The mage had collapsed onto the floor, her complexion worryingly pallid. Noelle rushed to help Henrietta and Surgeon lift the woman onto a cot and pressed fingers to her wrist. Her heart beat was slow, weak. She looked as though her blood pressure had hit the floor, though Noelle had no way of measuring. She quickly covered her with blankets and looked at the other two women for any indication of what to do further.

Surgeon looked despondently down at the mage before straightening and calling on some reserve of strength to take charge again. “I am going to go to Adan to see what we can brainstorm that might help. Henrietta, I want you to make the rounds around Haven. Use that charm of yours to find out if any refugees, soldiers, anyone, has even the smallest bit of lyrium. No questions asked to anyone who produces any. We’re saving a life, not outing apostates. Noelle, I need you to stay here and hold down the fort. Keep Talia stable. Attend to anyone who comes in. I give you leave to make whatever decision you deem necessary. I imagine Yasin will be back in a couple of hours if we are not.”

Henrietta fluttered distractedly from the tent and Noelle nodded her understanding as Surgeon exited with a collection of books under her arms.

\--

“I’ll be fine,” Cullen protested as his lieutenant marched him towards inevitable embarrassment and anxiety. He wasn’t sure why he was letting his subordinate boss him around, but he couldn’t quite think of a good reason to put his foot down. ‘The lead healer is scary’ hardly seemed like a thing he could say. Neither did ‘the new one doesn’t like me’.

“Aye. I’m certain you are,” Rylen snarked as he dabbed at Cullen’s breastplate with a finger and showed him the blood that had snaked its way down there. He grunted in response, still holding fingers to his broken nose and tilting his head backwards as he followed the lieutenant into the healer's clinic.

“Ah, lass? Could we get a little help?”

“Maker’s mercy,” a soldier near the entrance laughed. “What happened to you?” Cullen turned an icy glare towards him and was satisfied to see the man’s eyes widen and look away guiltily.

A beleaguered sigh accompanied hands on his shoulders that steered him towards a cot and sat him on its end. “What are you doing? Lean forward you stupid man.” He instantly recognized the casual derision in the voice and bristled.

“I’m trying to avoid making a mess,” he grumbled.

“Better you make a mess out here than in your stomach.” But she shoved a shallow bowl into his hands. “Let the blood drain freely into this.” Cullen gingerly removed his hand from his nose and leaned his head forward over the bowl. He spit some blood that had drained into the back of his throat out onto the collection of drips accumulating in the vessel. A cold pack was plunked unceremoniously in his free hand and he remembered a small chest inscribed with an ice rune that Surgeon had produced one day when he’d shown up with a black eye. One of her most prized possessions, she’d told him proudly before slapping his hand when he reached out to touch it. 

“What were you doing?” Cullen’s eyes darted towards the redhead but she wasn’t addressing him. She had Rylen sat down on the cot next to him and was directing her glower at him now.

“Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t my fault?” The man was smirking in the face of her irritation and Cullen wondered at his balls. Of course, his second seemed to take most things in stride with a smile and a joke.

She snorted, somehow amused rather than irate. “No.”

“We were sparring, demonstrating some techniques for the recruits, and I might have gotten a bit carried away and smashed the Commander in the face with my shield.”

“You were showing off.”

Cullen barked a laugh that sent sharp pain shooting up to his forehead and he grit his teeth in response.

“And how did this happen?” She continued, poking at the shoulder that Rylen had apparently dislocated. The man winced and Cullen felt a vague sense of catharsis. It was Rylen’s fault, after all.

“Let’s say I was thrown off balance and leave my vanity in tact.” 

She shook her head. “Well, let’s get this off first.” She began unbuckling his cuirass, pulling the two halves apart and gingerly over Rylen’s head. Luckily the injured side came apart completely. “Couldn’t you wear something that helps brace and protect your arm?”

“Less fast that way,” he grunted. Cullen swallowed another laugh. He didn’t want the additional pain.

“Well, clearly that’s more important than having a functioning arm. Okay, deep breath.” She pushed and Cullen heard the pop and guttural cry that signaled the shoulder being pressed back into place. She had Rylen’s arm in a sling in a short moment, before the man had even finished breathing heavily as he brought himself back from the pain. 

“Whatever would I do without you, lass?”

Cullen blinked. Was he  _ flirting  _ with her? The healer who hated Templars? He realized suddenly that he had forgotten to think of her as the prisoner and watched her with more careful interest. 

“You keep behaving so recklessly and I’m afraid you’ll have to find out.”

A sharp intake of breath as Rylen clapped the hand on his good arm to his chest dramatically. “You wound me. Surely you would not leave a poor soldier to his own substandard care?”

Cullen was surprised to see that this flirtatious teasing was working as she threw a lopsided grin at the man. “Well, we couldn’t have that now, could we?” How did he do that?

He sat up a bit straighter as she approached, lifting his chin so she could examine his face more closely. “It doesn’t look too bad but I don’t exactly have an x-ray to say that conclusively. I’m going to feel it to see if I can tell better, okay?” He felt her breath waft across his cheek as she spoke and it smelled sweet, like the berries that had accompanied lunch.

Rylen’s voice interjected. “Why don’t you just throw some healing magic at it?”

“No,” they responded in unison. Cullen blushed at his instinctual response but Noelle wasn’t paying attention.

“Our only mage healer is laying on that cot there. Even if we can wake her up soon, I hardly think we’ll be wasting her limited reserves on a broken nose.”

Cullen nodded, pretending this had been the source of his refusal as well. Noelle began cautiously feeling at his nose and Cullen squeezed the edge of the cot as he focused on not jerking away from the pain. “Hm. It’s not really my area of expertise but I think it might heal fine on its own. Seems like a stable fracture. I don’t imagine it will be very obvious once the swelling has gone down.” She moved away and Cullen felt his body relax. How did she put him on edge so effectively? She returned with a cloth and a bowl of water.

“I can do that,” he muttered.

“Don’t be stupid,” she rebutted as she began wiping the blood from his chin. “You’re shaking like a leaf and would be just as liable to hit yourself and make it worse. You’ve probably got a concussion and should lay down and rest after this.”

He hadn’t noticed, but he’d been trembling on and off for the past couple of days and he was not surprised. Of course, he also knew that it wasn’t from a hit to his head.

She continued cleaning him, moving to his upper lip once she’d finished his chin. He watched her face as she worked, making adorable faces and occasionally biting her lip in concentration. She was leaning in to do her work and when she swiped a finger over the scar on his lip he had a sudden urge to pull her down onto his lap and suck her finger into his mouth. He could feel the heat rising in his face as he fought to push away the image. Maker, he didn’t even  _ like  _ her… and she certainly didn’t like him. She’d made that very clear. Repeatedly.

“Well, it’s not perfect,” she said as she pulled away. “If you hadn’t let this stubble grow out it would have been easier but it’s about as good as it’s going to get without rubbing your skin raw. Now, make sure you sleep on your back - don’t be shoving your face into the pillow. I don’t think we have anything to protect the bridge but I’ll ask Surgeon when she gets back and come see you if we do. For now, go rest so your body can do it’s work.”

“He won’t, you know. Far too stubborn about his work to listen.”

“Mhm. And I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about ignoring good advice, would you, Lieutenant?”

Rylen chuckled. “I’ve awoken a demon, Commander. We better go before it unleashes anymore of its wrath upon us!”

Noelle laughed but Cullen was more than happy to take the prompt and he vacated the tent as swiftly as possible. He could hear Rylen orating his thankfulness and farewells inside and squeezed his eyes shut as he recognized his own rudeness. Ah well. Nothing to do about it now.

\--

Noelle’s stomach growled. Audibly. Surgeon looked up from where she was leaning over Talia. “Go get some dinner. You’ve been here all day. Yasin and I will carry on tonight.”

“Don’t you need a break?”

“I won’t be going anywhere,” the woman murmured as she gently pushed the hair from Talia’s forehead. Noelle’s heart went out to her as the tableau proclaimed that Talia was not merely a work acquaintance. Henrietta had come up empty during her search for lyrium and, while a man named Adan was apparently working on something that he and Surgeon had collaborated on, there was no immediate solution in sight.

“Can I bring you anything?”

The woman shook her head and waved Noelle out of the tent. She left hesitantly, realizing that no one had come to pick her up and ‘escort her’ anywhere. Did she even know where the mess was from here? She looked around, eventually picking the direction that looked the most accurate.

“Noelle!” She whirled around, searching for the source of the voice. She didn’t have to look long. Jim was trotting up to her, his face flushed and smiling. “You don’t have a guard.” He looked around, confused.

“I think they forgot about me,” she whispered. 

“That’s fantastic! I mean, uhh, I’m glad you’re not being watched all the time. For your sake, miss. Oh Maker.”

She giggled. “Honestly, I’m glad too. I’d much rather be forgotten than paid any attention to. Even if they did decide to trust me, I have a feeling I’d much rather be left alone.”

“Maybe we can go for a walk one day. There’s a pretty lake a little ways away. That is, if you’d like to go for a walk. With me. I think I owe you something nice after you saved my life and all. And the Herald has been out closing nearby rifts so there shouldn’t be any demons. There might be a couple of wolves but they tend to be scared of humans so I don’t think they’ll be any trouble and I’m rambling.”

Noelle took a slow breath, looking out into the distance. “I’d like to but I- I don’t know how to defend myself out there. What happened on the mountain was a complete fluke, Jim.”

“I’ll protect you.” His chest puffed a bit with the pronouncement. “I’m getting better every day and I won’t be running on two days without sleep if we do come across something.”

Noelle hesitated, the sight of him being tossed like a ragdoll still fresh in her mind. The boy was sweet but she didn’t think he was strong enough to protect her if another one attacked - even with a better night’s sleep. She needed to learn how to protect herself.

“Jim, do you think you could teach me how to shoot a bow?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure I’d be much of a teacher, miss. I could try, of course,” he assured her quickly. “I’d give it a shot right now but- Oh, Maker! I’ve got to be off before Lady Nightingale notices how long I’ve been gone. I’ll try to find you tomorrow. Good bye!”

“Wait,” she called after him. “Do you know where the mess tent is?”

“It’s all the way across town,” he laughed. “But the tavern is right there!” He pointed three buildings down to a brightly lit structure. Straining her ears, she could just barely hear music coming from its interior.

Good enough, she thought.

\--

Varric slid the goblet across the table but the elf didn’t touch it. He raised his own mug of ale. “To accidentally joining a heretical religious organization.”

“Indeed.” Solas finally picked up his glass, raising it a fraction to acknowledge the toast and bringing it to his lips. His nose wrinkled as he tasted the red liquid and he sighed, pushing it away.

“You doing okay? You seem more distracted than when Trevelyan was out for the count and that mark was threatening to kill him.”

A non-committal noise was his only response for a bit. “I should take my leave,” he eventually stated.

“Right,” Varric responded distractedly as he spotted the former prisoner entering the tavern, her eyes darting around nervously. “Noelle,” he called. He still wasn’t sure where he stood on whether the girl was a bit off in the head, though the spymaster certainly seemed to buy her story, but he felt like he owed her some kindness after what he did in the cells. She looked over to him and a grin split her face before a shyness took over. He gestured insistently for her to join him and turned to say goodbye to his previous companion, but Solas remained seated and was watching her intensely.

“Have you met her yet?” He queried as she wove her way through tables towards them.

“Only briefly.”

“She’s a little kooky but nice- Hey there. I see you’ve earned your freedom.”

“I’m not sure I earned it. I think they just forgot me,” she said as she slid into a free seat. Her eyes darted nervously towards Solas and back to him. “I came here because I couldn’t find the mess tent, but I’ve just realized I don’t have any money.”

“Not a problem. I’ll get you something.”

“Oh no. I couldn’t. Maybe if you can just tell me where the mess is?”

“I could accompany you,” Solas offered.

Varric shot him a dirty look. “Not a chance. I’ve got royalties pouring into my accounts. I can certainly afford to buy you dinner.” He gestured to Flissa for more food and drink.

“Umm… thank you.” She looked down at her hands, clearly uncomfortable.

“You look tired. How are you holding up?”

“I’m not used to sleeping with so many people,” she chuckled. “My god, the snoring. It must have woken me half a dozen times.”

“Well, I’d offer to share my tent but I’m afraid my snoring could wake the dead,” he joked.

“I have a small cabin at the edge of town. You would be welcome there. We could talk about you, your world.” Varric looked at Solas incredulously. He had not expected the elf to extend that sort of kindness to a stranger, and at the same time his intonation said there was something coded in his language that he was missing.

Noelle, for her part, looked alarmed. “No! Umm. No, thank you. I’ll get used to it. I- I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“If it were an imposition, I would not have offered.”

Noelle shook her head and turned her attention towards a serving girl who had arrived with food and drink for her. The rich smell of the stew started Varric’s stomach again and he requested another for himself. Solas declined but he picked up his wine and sipped at it, watching Noelle with measured annoyance. What was he playing at?

“So I hear you’ve taken up with the healers.” He attempted to lighten the mood through a change in conversation.

Noelle’s face brightened, her demeanor shifting as intended. “Yes. It’s nice to feel useful. I was a physiotherapist at home but I was training to be an EMT before I switched paths and I get the feeling I’ll be using those skills just as much unless Talia gets better… Which probably sounds like complete nonsense to you.”

“You enjoy helping people,” Solas commented and she nodded her affirmation as she devoured her food. “I am not surprised.” 

Varric watched the man with interest. He had not shown much curiosity about any of their companions in Haven except Trevelyan, and even that had been oriented towards the mark on his hand rather than the man himself. Even his own efforts to draw Solas out of his shell had been met with mixed results at best. What was different about this one? Certainly it wasn’t just that she was pretty. There were plenty of pretty women about. 

As dinner wrapped up, Noelle made her excuses about needing to get some rest and a desire to be somewhere predictable in case someone suddenly recollected that she was supposed to be being watched.

“I will escort you,” Solas asserted calmly as he stood with her.

“Oh. Uh.” Varric could see her eyes searching for an excuse as the tension rose. No wonder, he thought. Solas had been intensely focused on her all evening and it was not surprising that she would feel nervous to be alone with him now.

“I’ll come along too.” Her eyes met his gratefully and he grinned at her. He reached over and clapped Solas on the shoulder. The elf looked down at him and he was surprised to see only cold fury in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Talia die, leaving the Inquisition without magical healing for the foreseeable future, or does the Herald come to her rescue with lyrium?  
> \- Talia dies  
> \- **Herald saves her** Winner! (73%)
> 
> And, some more about Noelle!  
> How does Noelle express her creativity?  
> \- Music  
> \- **Art** Winner! (38%)  
>  \- Sewing  
> Noelle was somewhat active before this. What was her favourite sport?  
> \- Swimming  
> \- **Rock Climbing** Winner! (53%)  
>  \- Football (Soccer)  
> \--  
> Come chat with me on [Tumblr](https://kimpossibility.tumblr.com/) about this fic, my other fics, or DA generally! Also thoughts and comments are much loved - on the story and on how this whole project is playing out. :)


	9. An Eventual Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, happy birthday to ValerianCandy! I hope it's full of fun and joy!!
> 
> Does Talia die, leaving the Inquisition without magical healing for the foreseeable future, or does the Herald come to her rescue with lyrium?  
> \- Talia dies  
> \- **Herald saves her** Winner! (73%)
> 
> And, some more about Noelle!  
> How does Noelle express her creativity?  
> \- Music  
> \- **Art** Winner! (38%)  
>  \- Sewing
> 
> Noelle was somewhat active before this. What was her favourite sport?  
> \- Swimming  
> \- **Rock Climbing** Winner! (53%)  
>  \- Football (Soccer)

Solas felt her surprise when she spotted him again, followed by a sharp fear as she watched him approach. He must appear as irritated and impatient as he felt. She turned and fled but he was tired of these games. A snarling anger set his jaw as he raised a giant gate in front of her. She hardly paused, grabbing onto it and hauling herself upwards as he stalked forwards towards her. With the crook of a finger he bent the gate, melting it from the top back towards him and dropping her back onto the path. He tugged on the ground, pulled her scrambling form back towards him and lifted her, gripping her chin between his fingers.

“Why do you run from me?”

“That’s what you do when virtual strangers stalk you angrily through your nightmares,” she spat back at him. He could smell her fear as well as feel it and it mixed with the scent of the Fade delectably. It would have been pleasant if she was his prey, but he did not wish her to fear him. Never her. He had waited too long for someone else like him.

He released her, holding his hands up placatingly. “This is not a nightmare, lethal’lan. I do not wish to hurt you.” He didn’t think twice about using the term. She was now the closest he had to kin, certainly as close as the proud and unfeeling descendants of the People who turned him away in anger at every opportunity.

“Alright.” She spoke slowly, in a halting acceptance of his words. “What kind of dream is this then?”

He narrowed his eyes. She still didn’t understand. “This is not a dream. We are in the Fade, yes, but one could argue this is just as real as the waking world.” He smirked at her skeptical eyebrow. “It is merely a matter of perspective.”

She looked around obediently, but he could sense her disinterest and disbelief. Her fixed intent to believe him a figment of her imagination bordered on obstinate. He sent her a wave of amusement and was fascinated by her slow blink and the quirk of her lip as the feeling became her own. “I will show you. Tomorrow morning, I will be waiting for you when you rise and we will speak together over breakfast.”

But when morning came and he waited outside the barracks, she never appeared. He asked after her, feigning nonchalance, and was informed she had risen and left quite early.

He contained the urge to raze the barracks to the ground.

\--

Surgeon looked up sharply at the sound of Noelle squeaking. “Herald,” she acknowledged as she rose from her seat next to Talia’s bed. “What can we do for you?” She had not met the man yet but had seen him from a distance. He was quite… average appearing for his title. She had thought he should appear sculpted from stone but his face was kind and he was clearly a scholar rather than a warrior.

She could see Henrietta wringing her hands, flustered by the presence of a god’s envoy in her presence. Of course, Surgeon did not buy into such superstitions but the man still deserved respect for his actions in freezing the Breach. She inclined her head in a slight bow.

“You look mad.” Surgeon turned her sharp eyes to Noelle in a scathing chastisement for blurting her thoughts so rudely but she only shrugged. “He does.”

“I am mad, Lady Noelle, and I will happily explain why after you administer this to your patient.” He pulled a small vial of blue liquid from a robe pocket and Surgeon snatched it from his hand quickly.

“Thank you, my lord. Thank you.” She shook Talia’s shoulders, trying to rouse enough consciousness for the woman to drink from the vial. “Talia. Talia, love. I need you to drink this.”

Her partner croaked a questionable acknowledgement but she swallowed obediently as the liquid slowly dripped into her mouth. Surgeon poured slow, not wanting to waste any if Talia coughed or spat it up by accident. Talia’s eyes fluttered at her, a bit of colour instantly returning to her cheeks. Surgeon lay her hand on Talia’s cheek; she felt a normal temperature.

She watched Noelle counting heartbeats. “Amazing,” she said with a growing smile across her face. “Just like that.”

Surgeon turned to the Herald. “The lyrium shipment finally arrived?”

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t that be a miracle. No, I’ve had this the entire time. I grabbed it the day we climbed the mountain. It was…” He took a slow breath. “It was on a dead woman. I took it in case I needed it to continue fighting to the Breach. I’ve had it this whole time and no one thought to mention to me that a mage was ill.”

Surgeon could hear the noise of her teeth grinding together. Talia had been ill for days and no one cared enough to even mention her as long as non-mages kept leaving the clinic alive. “They’re as bad as the bloody Chantry,” she said before clamping her mouth shut.

Henrietta gaped at her but the silent and tense faces of the Herald and Noelle said they agreed. Before, only Talia and Yasin had known about her feelings towards the Chantry and her agnosticism about the Maker. Now she might as well have outed herself to the whole town. 

“I had thought splitting from the Chantry might mean they had more feeling, or were more sensible. Cassandra said they’d wanted a peaceful resolution to the war but they care as little for mages as anyone else,” Trevelyan grumbled. His eyes flicked to Talia, who had fallen back asleep and appeared to be resting much more peacefully. “Was she an apostate?”

“No. She’s from the Jainen Circle. She used to come to my clinic once a week with a Templar. A nice boy despite his position. I think he knew about us before we did.” Surgeon smiled and stroked Talia’s head as she remembered the first time he left them alone with a wink and a promise not to be back for an hour. 

Times long gone.

She cleared her throat. “She accompanied some moderate Senior Enchanters who attended the Conclave and sent me a note to tell me she wouldn’t be by for awhile. I decided that was unacceptable and followed her.”

“I’m glad you did. Many would have died without you. Without both of you.” Trevelyan nodded his head in appreciation.

“Yes. They would have.” Surgeon rubbed her hand roughly on her tunic and extended it to Trevelyan and he took it with a smile. “Thank you for the lyrium. I’m certain she will recover with rest. May I ask who finally informed you of the situation?”

“No one did. I overheard the Commander asking after the shipment and he mentioned it when the officer teased him about following up on such a trivial issue personally.”

“Ah. Thank you, Herald.”

“Please don’t call me that. I’m just Trevelyan.”

“Thank you, Trevelyan.”

\--

Jim took Noelle by the hand and they wove and duck between and around tents until they got to the shooting range. He wasn’t sure what the rules around teaching a former prisoner how to use a weapon were and wanted their scheme to continue for as long as possible before being caught and an end put to it. Dinner hour was the perfect time, everyone would be gone and in the mess and then off to find their own entertainment. They should have at least an hour before anyone wandered past and necessitated a change of venue, and if they were hungry and he brought her to dinner afterwards then so much the better.

He hummed audibly as he perused the assortment of bows on a rack across from the targets, looking for something similar to what he had started learning on - something that didn’t require as much draw weight and was light enough to hold steady and not excessively tax her arms while learning. He plucked a trainer bow that looked similar to what he had learned on and tossed it at her playfully. She yelped and fumbled it, just managing to grasp it fully before it hit the ground.

Jim grinned. He liked this set up, with him being the confident one and her nervous and hesitant for once.

“Let’s see where you’re starting from.” He handed her an arrow.

“What, like, just go?”

“Sure. I don’t know what you need to work on if I haven’t seen you shoot.”

She looked down at the bow and the arrow in her hands. “I don’t even know how to hold it.”

Jim felt his brows crumpling together in concern. This might be harder than he thought. “You’ve never seen one fired before?” He asked as he tried to think through the hand and body positioning that was so instinctual to him now.

“Only in movies and I wasn’t really paying much attention to how it was done.”

“Movies?”

“Oh! Umm, like moving pictures.”

“Oh,” he said, even though that didn’t help him understand at all.

He moved to help her set up her stance and positioning. He’d had a vision of himself standing behind her, arms wrapped around her, guiding her into the perfect shot. In reality, after hovering awkwardly behind her for a moment, it became clear that it would not be effective and he moved to her side to push and tug at her limbs until he was satisfied.

The first arrow she loosed wobbled about two feet before flopping uselessly to the ground. His breath caught in his throat as he rushed to fix it, to reassure her, but she was laughing at herself and shaking her head as she gathered the lost arrow to try again. The next attempt was a little improved.

After an hour and dozens of attempts, Noelle was reliably firing the arrow the twenty feet between her and the target. It wasn’t enough distance or force to prove a threat to an opponent, or even potential food, but it was enough to start practicing aiming, something she was completely terrible at and Jim couldn’t figure out why. He made sure her stance was proper each time. He guided her through choosing an anchor point. Still, her arrows found themselves in unpredictable locations.

“You’re over-rotating your elbow. Keep it straight up and down.”

Jim turned, annoyed at the intrusion.

“Oh? What would you know about this kind of archery? You use a crossbow,” Noelle laughed at her critic.

“I got around a fair bit before I became a one weapon kind of guy.” The dwarf patted his crossbow fondly. “Just don’t tell Bianca that I have a past.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She looked down at her arm and maneuvered it a bit. “Like this?” Her newest teacher nodded. She turned to Jim, looking for confirmation.

“Yes.” He was right, Jim just hadn’t noticed.

Noelle loosed the arrow.

It missed the target.

“Tabarnak! Oh well. By the way - Jim. Varric.” She waved her hands between them indicating introduction. 

Varric flashed a smile in his direction before turning back to her. “Your arm was shaking but the posture was better. You should probably stop for the night.”

“Oh thank goodness.” She collapsed on the ground dramatically. “Stupid non-transferable fitness.”

“What?” Jim asked.

“I have muscles so I thought I’d last longer but stably holding that position was not something they’d trained for.”

“Let’s get you a drink.”

“Yes. Please, if you’re buying. Jim, would you like to come for a drink?” 

He shook his head as he watched her push herself off the ground. He wanted time with her to himself, not to sit silent and feel overwhelmed while a fast talking dwarf steals all his attention. “Why don’t we just meet up again tomorrow?”

\--

Noelle followed Varric through the tavern and froze when she saw who was seated at the table he was heading towards. “Varric,” she hissed, grabbing him by the shoulder. “I was hoping she would just forget about me.”

“Unlikely,” he snorted. “If you think the Seeker and the Nightingale don’t have eyes on you at all times, you are delusional.”

“Really?” She tried not to let her rising alarm make its way into her voice but the edge of it was there anyways. It made sense. Of course they wouldn’t just forget about her.

“Even I’m being watched and I fought my way up the mountain to stabilize the Breach with her and the Herald. Come on.” 

Cassandra looked up and made no effort to quiet the “ugh” that escaped her mouth at seeing Varric settling in across from her.

“Good evening, Seeker,” he said cheerfully. “I believe you’ve met Noelle?” He gestured emphatically for Noelle to sit.

“I have. I-” She looked conflicted for a moment. “I have heard that you are doing good work with the healers.”

“It’s only been a couple of days,” she mumbled.

“Still, I am glad that we were wrong about you… and I owe you an apology.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Noelle didn’t want her apology. She wasn’t even sure what an apology from a woman like that meant.  _ Sorry I fucked up but I’m going to do it again without really questioning my decisions? Sorry I believe in guilty until proven innocent? Sorry I let Leliana threaten to torture you and even suggested it was the best option when she was questioned?  _ At least, she was fairly certain that it wasn’t an apology that promised to do better in the future.

Cassandra looked concerned for a moment but merely nodded an acknowledgment and returned her gaze to a stack of papers that sat in front of her. A mug of ale sat just to the side. Not a bad way to work, in any case.

After a time listening to Varric tease the Seeker and tell stories, Noelle felt something like anger creep its way up her spine that she was certain was separate from her irritation with the Seeker and even felt separate from her. Quickly, it was pulled away, as though it had been let out by accident and someone had stuffed it back where it belonged. She resisted the urge to look around. This had happened a couple of times recently and she felt off kilter enough just being in Thedas without looking for sources of strange emotions that her body was manifesting.

She tried to tune into the conversation and the beer but she felt unnerved.

“You doing okay there?” There was no fooling Varric.

“I’m fine,” she responded just a little too quickly. 

“Ser Solas,” Cassandra suddenly chirped. “Please join us. I have a few questions about the anchor I would like to review with you before our meeting in the morning.”

“Forgive me, no. The Lady Noelle and I are overdue for a discussion.”

“We are?” Noelle couldn’t fathom what he meant for a moment until his next words landed in her consciousness with a thud and filled her completely with astonishment and dread.

“We were to meet this morning. I had promised you. Do you not remember?”

“I- Maybe we should talk after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Solas does not want to leave Noelle in Haven while he accompanies the Herald to the Hinterlands. Does he get his way? ](https://vote.pollcode.com/72788986)  
>  \- Yes, she goes  
> \- **No, she stays** Winner! (64%)
> 
> [Noelle’s engagement ended shortly before she was transported to Thedas. Why?](https://vote.pollcode.com/67638884)  
>  \- **He cheated on her** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- He wanted kids, she didn’t  
> \- He found out something new about her
> 
> [Where is the Hero of Ferelden?](https://vote.pollcode.com/49456688)  
> \- Dead  
> \- Wardening  
> \- **On the Throne** Winner! (49%)
> 
> Bonus: I'm taking suggestions over the next couple chapters for Varric's nickname. Add it to your comment, I'll gather them, and then we'll vote!
> 
> \--
> 
> Finally, keep an eye out on [Tumblr](https://kimpossibility.tumblr.com). I'm learning how to art and I'm currently working on Noelle and Jim training. I'll post it there when it's 'done'.


	10. An Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas does not want to leave Noelle in Haven while he accompanies the Herald to the Hinterlands. Does he get his way?  
> \- Yes, she goes  
> \- **No, she stays** Winner! (64%)
> 
> Noelle’s engagement ended shortly before she was transported to Thedas. Why?  
> \- **He cheated on her** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- He wanted kids, she didn’t  
> \- He found out something new about her
> 
> Where is the Hero of Ferelden?  
> \- Dead  
> \- Wardening  
> \- **On the Throne** Winner! (49%)

Solas pushed down on his nervous agitation, keeping it locked away as he led ler away from the tavern. He had quickly realized that he didn’t have a concrete plan for what he should explain to her. He had assumed somehow that she would already understand enough to feel connected to him as he did to her but he had been wrong. How much should he trust her? 

He could feel her own nervousness. It was more a wariness, an apprehension. She was nervous to be alone with him. 

She shook her head as he opened the door to his little cabin for her, sitting instead on the step. He sat next to her, searching for the words to start with and trying not to be distracted by her scent swirling around him. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, the herbal tang of soap, and the sweetness of her skin. Underneath all that he could smell the Fade. It was intoxicating.

“How were you in my dreams?”

That was not where he planned to start, but he was grateful that it was an easier entry point than the one he had chosen. “I am what’s called a somniari. I can wander the Fade consciously while I sleep. To say I was in your dream, however, would be inaccurate. I found you and brought you to a part of the Fade where we could converse.”

“Where you could chase me,” she shot back, a ripple of irritation twitching through the Fade towards him. 

“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run away,” he snapped. 

“I wouldn’t have run away if you hadn’t frightened me!” Suddenly she froze and he felt something like a realization or recognition from her before she began laughing.  Why did she have to be so frustrating? 

“Why are you laughing?”

She shook her head. “I’ve just seen almost this exact argument somewhere before.” She paused and looked at him thoughtfully. “You said you wanted to speak with me. I will try to listen.”

He inclined his head, a thankful acknowledgment of her openness. He could feel it in her, a genuine desire to listen and understand that hadn’t been there before. “I have a strong connection with to the Fade. It allows me to see and feel things that others cannot. A very long time ago,” he ignored her quizzical smile at his assertion of time, “I used to know many with the same connection.” He swallowed. Talking about it still felt as fresh as before his long sleep. “They’re all gone now.” 

She tilted her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t understand, so he sent it to her. His feeling of losing them. The mix of guilt and sorrow. Then of waking and the horror and sense of loss at how separate every living creature was from the Fade. He couldn’t feel or connect to any of them. They were as walking automata. He was the only living person like him. He was truly and completely alone.

Until her.

She was crying. He reached out and stole a tear from her cheek with his thumb. It sat, small and wet on his skin, and made him feel less alone. She raised her eyes to his. “Solas,” she whispered, helpless in her desire to take away the pain.

He smiled gently and sent her something new. His feelings upon seeing her and seeing that she was like him. The relief and trepidation all rolled together. “Perhaps you can understand now why my pursuit of you was so intense. My overtures were perhaps misguided in their execution but I did not intend to frighten you.”

She nodded slowly, brushing away the remainder of her tears as her feelings became her own again. The one he took remained quietly on his thumb. “But I don’t understand. I’m connected to the Fade too?”

“You are.”

“How? Why?”

He smiled. Exactly the questions he had been asking. “I do not know, but perhaps we can discover the answer together.”

She sat silently, watching her hands as they pressed and squeezed against each other. He could feel her thinking. How he wished he could read her thoughts as well. “What is going on in your mind, lethallan?”

“How do you make me feel things?”

“They are my feelings. I am simply letting them out through the Fade so you can feel them as well.”

She pressed her lips together tightly, an unpleasant thought forming in the hollow of her mouth. “Am I letting my feelings out into the Fade? Is that how you knew I was like you?”

He was pleased at how quick she was, although it might make things difficult if she asked certain questions. “Yes.”

“Can you teach me how to stop?”

“No,” he lied. 

\--

Noelle turned when she heard the exclamation. “Oh! Lieutenant. What can we do for you?” Henrietta was nearly chittering, her anxious hands fluttering over her smock.

“I need Noelle,” he snapped. 

“Oh. Oh, um.” Henrietta scurried over and took the poultice from Noelle’s hands, nudging her towards him. 

“Why is your arm out of your sling?”

“I’ve got work to do,” he grumbled. “I can’t be an invalid for days on end.”

Noelle threw her hands in the air. “It’s hardly been any time at all! You soldiers- You’re worse than athletes and I’m certain you don’t get paid half so well.”

“Can you help me or not? I can’t move the bloody thing or hardly turn my head. It hurts worse than Maferath’s curse.”

“I’ll bet,” she sighed. “Well, go lay down over there and I’ll see what I can do.”

As she crouched next to him she whispered in his ear. “Rylen, you know you’re far too charming to run around snapping at people like that. People will start to think you’re taking after your boss.”

He hissed as she gently lifted his arm. “Aye. You’re right. Sorry for snapping at you, lass,” he called to Henrietta. “My pain is makin’ me a right flaming bastard.”

She beamed at him. “You are forgiven. Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe something to numb this pain?”

“Nope,” Noelle interjected. “This pain is your body’s way of telling you that you fucked up and what your limits are so you’d better listen to it. I can get you mobile again but then I’m wrapping you back in that sling and you will leave it on except to do those exercises I showed you. Otherwise, no activity you can’t do in a sling without my express permission.”

“I thought the Commander was my superior officer,” he snorted.

“Not in this. If he has a problem with it then he can come see me about it.”

“He won’t. I’m just the poor bastard who’s sodded shite at limitations.” He moaned as she moved her fingers over the right spot to release some of the seizing. “Ng. You’re a miracle, lass.”

“How is his nose healing?”

Rylen laughed. “Ah, he’s alright. It would probably heal faster if he didn’t like to pinch the bridge when he’s irritated. There’s a running bet on how many times he’ll hurt himself a day just pinching the damn thing.”

“Can I get in on that?”

\--

Maxwell turned to examine Solas. He wasn’t certain he had heard him correctly. “The healer?”

The elf nodded once.

“Why would you want to bring her?”

“She is still under suspicion. I do not trust this organization to treat her fairly in our absence.”

“She has done nothing to bring attention to herself and as long as that continues, I’m quite sure she’s in no worse danger than neglect and disinterest.” He really wasn’t certain why the man was so concerned. She was strange but, even having fallen from a rift, she appeared to have no obvious reason for anyone to take a particular interest in her.

“Herald, unlike you, she does not have the protection of a mark ensuring she is needed to close the Breach. If she says or does anything that concerns people, and she almost certainly will since she is not from here, she will be targeted.”

“And you believe she will be safer on the road with demons and bandits, heading towards a war zone, with no appreciable defense skills to speak of?”

“I will be able to protect her!” Solas nearly growled out his snapped response. 

He rolled his eyes. “You are being ridiculous. You can stay here if you are so concerned.”

“That is also not ideal.”

Maxwell sighed. “Okay Solas. I would prefer your company on this trip so let’s see if she would like to come along.”

“Thank you, Herald.”

The conversation went more or less how he expected.

“Are you fucking mad,” she laughed. “Why on earth do you think I would want to go with you?”

Maxwell nearly laughed himself. He fully admitted that he might not have exactly talked up the trip, but her reaction was predictable. Solas, on the other hand, appeared surprised and confused.

“One of them threatened to torture you, lethallan. I do not wish to leave you alone here.”

“I’m hardly alone. I’ve been making friends.”

“Who among them would stand between you and a blade?”

Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t want them to! Christ on a biscuit you ask a lot from people.”

Maxwell snorted. He didn’t understand half what she said but her incredulity was endearing. “He’s right that there are dangers here, but I do not think Cullen and Josephine would allow anything horrible to happen to you. Appeal to them if you find yourself in trouble.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow. “I think the Commander would quite enjoy seeing me get myself into hot water, actually.”

“Well, Josephine then. She has a kind heart. I’ll mention you to her.”

“Please, come with us,” Solas tried again. “I would protect you if I can.”

“Protect me by saving the world from a hole in the sky-- Not by hauling my useless ass across the country.”

“I will be checking in during our absence,” he said firmly. There was a finality and a weight in his words that belied his words. Maxwell felt certain that there was a secret there he wasn’t yet privy to and resolved to have it by the end of their trip.

“It’s rather invasive.”

“Not hardly, we will all be sending ravens. I’m certain you can send at least one note to assure Solas of your health," he teased. "I am sorry, Lady Williams, but we must attend preparations for our departure. I believe ‘duty calls’ hardly covers it. Give my best wishes to Surgeon and Talia.”

\--

“You know, I believe Leliana is quite the shot with a bow,” Varric commented. He had come across the secret lesson for the second time, perhaps not entirely by accident. “I’m leaving in the morning but I bet she’d have some pointers for you if you invited her by.”

“What is with people making terrible suggestions today? The last person I want handling a weapon around me is her. She’s terrifying now.”

“What do you mean now,” her young instructor asked.

“Well, I really liked the younger her that I know from… books. She seemed sweet. Now though… Now she’s a scary person. She must have been hardened.”

Varric shrugged. “Life tends to harden us all.”

“Not you. You’re the same.” She shot off another arrow and the scout whooped as it aimed straight for the target, right before it bounced off. “Ah, what the fuck?” She whined.

“Just not enough strength behind the draw to embed it,” the scout explained. Varric wished he’d been paying attention when they were introduced. He couldn’t remember the kid’s damned name. He saw him all over Haven and sometimes thought to wave but he kept forgetting to ask someone as soon as the kid was out of his sight. He was just so forgettable. “Aim was better though.”

“How can I draw harder? My arm already feels like it’s going to fall off. Any more practice tonight and I’ll give myself rhabdo.”

“Rhab-what?” Varric was a little glad the scout asked so he didn’t have to.

“Rhabdomyolysis. Basically, muscle death.” She leaned against a barrel. “Why is archery so hard?”

“You’ve only had three lessons,” her teacher protested, nearly panicking. “You have to give it more time.”

“I should have asked Rylen to teach me how to use a sword,” she groaned. “No. Scratch that. He has a hard enough time not injuring himself without taking on another student. I guess you’re stuck with me, Jim.”

“I don’t mind,” he blushed.

\--

Henrietta chatted spiritedly as she and Noelle wandered down to the baths, swinging her bag of soaps and her hips. She loved bath day and was slightly embarrassed by her squeal of delight to find out that Noelle was used to bathing daily, or near daily, where she was from. 

Such a strange woman, claiming to be from another world when she must just be from really, really far away. But she was nice, and she was able to teach things to all the healers that none of them knew. Henrietta almost couldn’t believe the number of things she’d had to learn because there were no mages where she was from. 

The baths were busy and Noelle hovered awkwardly at the edge, clutching fresh clothes, towel and soap to her chest. “You coming?” Henrietta splashed at her playfully. 

“Yes, sorry. It’s- I’m used to bathing alone. I don’t think I’ve been naked in front of this many strangers since I went streaking in freshman year.”

Henrietta’s eyes widened. “Were you rich?”

“What? No,” she answered as she began stripping off her dirty clothes. “It was just normal for everyone’s homes to have private bathrooms.”

“That sounds lovely.” Visions of lazing about in a tub by herself, surrounded by flowers and possibly with a glass of wine, danced in her head. “And strange. Your home is so strange. You must feel quite out of place here.”

“You have no idea. I guess it helps that I read about this place so I know about the Chantry and Templars and magic and Blight but, honestly, I feel a little bit crazy.”

“What’s the weirdest thing?” Henrietta asked as the two women began to scrub themselves down with soap.

“Definitely being taken care of by Leven and Sarrel.” 

“Who?” Henrietta quirked her mouth to the side in confusion as Noelle blinked at her in disbelief.

“The elf boys who bring us lunch and snacks and take away our plates and leftovers every day?”

“Ohh. Were elves not servants where you’re from?”

“We didn’t have elves or servants.”

_By the Maker. How is that possible? No elves and no magic?_ _It was like stories of Orzammar._ She stayed silent, thinking for a moment. 

“It has also been a long time since we’ve allowed kids of that age to work. Most stay in school until they’re eighteen.”

“School? Not like schools of magic…”

“Like groups of kids receiving an education together.”

“Oh! We have that. I received education from the Chantry until I began my apprenticeship with Surgeon. That’s the same.”

Noelle laughed. “Not really, but I get your meaning.”

Henrietta pouted. She hardly thought it was fair to laugh. They sounded the same, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The HoF is on the throne. Who is it?](https://vote.pollcode.com/93826982)  
>  \- Aedan Cousland  
> \- **Elissa Cousland** Winner! (70%)
> 
> [Someone’s going to ask Noelle on a date. Who is it?](https://vote.pollcode.com/33925923)  
>  \- **Rylen** Winner! (60%)  
>  \- Jim  
>  _Author’s notes on this question: a) This date does not lead to OTP, b) There are no women in this question not because Noelle is necessarily straight - LIs will be reader choice - but because the women she has met so far are straight (Cassandra, Henrietta), in a relationship already (Surgeon, Talia) or terrifying (Leliana)._
> 
> [It’s payday! In addition to author-chosen items, what is Noelle going to buy?](https://vote.pollcode.com/11711735) (Author has outcomes for each of these.)  
>  \- **Fancy scented shampoos and soaps** Winner! (56%)  
>  \- A pendant with a pretty rune  
> \- The next round of drinks!
> 
> Don't forget that I'm taking suggestions for Varric nicknames! (I know it's tough when they haven't had many scenes together yet.) Comments always welcome and encouraged. Thanks for continuing to follow this and vote!


	11. A Day Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The HoF is on the throne. Who is it?  
> \- Aedan Cousland  
> \- **Elissa Cousland** Winner! (70%)
> 
> Someone’s going to ask Noelle on a date. Who is it?  
> \- **Rylen** Winner! (60%)  
>  \- Jim
> 
> It’s payday! In addition to author-chosen items, what is Noelle going to buy?  
> \- **Fancy scented shampoos and soaps** Winner! (56%)  
>  \- A pendant with a pretty rune  
> \- The next round of drinks!

Noelle could tell something was different in Haven. The air had a different weight to it without the Herald present but she couldn’t tell if tension was up because of potential dangers to him or down because some of the resident bosses had left. It didn’t mean much to her, though she might miss Varric.

She was shooed away at the clinic. “Go take the day off,” Surgeon instructed. “You’ve been here every day since you arrived.”

Noelle felt as though she’d been told to do an impossible thing, and she could not say why. “You haven’t taken a day off,” she protested.

“I have been here but I haven’t been working for much of that time.” Surgeon’s eyes flit towards Talia, who was finally on her feet and speaking with another patient. “I would not wish to go anywhere today in any case. Now get out of here, girl.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself.” It was true, other than having a few drinks with Varric, nearly all her time was spent at the clinic or training with Jim. She could turn neither drinking nor bathing into an all day activity.

“It is Saturday. Why not go collect your pay and head down to the market for the morning?”

Noelle had seen the market, but she assumed it was for Haven residents and wealthier Inquisition members who had their own money, like Varric. “I’m being paid?”

“Of course you are. Don’t be ridiculous. We do not condone slavery here.”

“I guess I thought I was working for room and board?”

Surgeon snorted. “As a healer? Hardly. You are not a serving girl with nowhere to go and this is not a wealthy estate with beneficial amenities. They set up outside of the Chantry. You can collect your payment there.”

\--

Noelle was nervous as she approached the two women set up in front of the church. They sat behind a table with ledgers, and a large chest of coins. “Noelle Williams,” she mumbled on request. “Healer.”

The one merely nodded upon spotting her name as the other handed her a small bag of coins. “Bring the bag back when you return for your next payment.” Noelle nodded, both surprised that it had worked out and that it wasn’t written somewhere next to her name ‘Cautious: Crazy lady believes she is from another world. May have contributed to explosion. Stare at pointedly.’

The market stalls themselves were busy. It wasn’t just payday for her, apparently. She had no idea where to start so she wandered slowly, just taking in the sights and what each stall was selling. Many had weapons and armour, which seemed a bit redundant when everything was supplied by the Inquisition but people were buying. She stopped at a stall filled with beautiful jewellery and a man with a thick Orlesian accent held out a necklace for her. “This one is enchanted with a love spell. I imagine a beautiful woman such as yourself could make good use of such a thing, yes?” When she wrinkled her nose in disgust he quickly swapped for another that he claimed was for luck but she was already moving on.  _ Love spell indeed. Gross. _

She stopped at a stall selling clothing. It would be nice to have more than two tunics and one pair of leggings, and  _ oh thank god they sell underwear _ . She was nervous that she wouldn’t have enough, and she wasn’t sure how to ask without outing herself as woefully ignorant and easily taken advantage of. Honestly, looking in her bag, she didn’t even know how to count her money. She hovered, staring at the items in the stall wistfully.

“They say decisiveness is a great virtue,” a voice behind her said with a thick accent.

“I have no idea how your money works,” she hissed at him, flushing red with embarrassment.

Rylen grinned wickedly. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, lass. You might be grateful and have to be sweet to me. Where would that get us?”

“I’d be nicer to you if you followed my directions. And called me by my name,” she added.

“You might notice that I am wearing your ridiculous sling today and taking the day off,  _ Noelle. _ ”

She smiled. She couldn’t help grinning around this charming man with his wonderful accent. “That you are.”

“Now, what are you looking at?” Noelle pointed to a shirt and a pair of pants and Rylen snorted. “Those are for men,” he informed her.

“Really? They look about my size.” 

“Aye, because they’re for elves.” Rylen moved to the side of the stall pulled out a long dress in a deep, forest green with brown accents. “What about this?”

Noelle burst out laughing. “I cannot work in that. It would be ridiculous.”

“Who said anything about work? You can wear it when I take you out later.” 

“What?” She mostly didn’t squeak. Mostly.

“I would very much like to take you out after you have completed your purchases, Lady Noelle.”

“Oh.” She stared at him, waiting for him to say something more. “I mean, yes. That was a yes.”

His cheeky grin made her flush and she resisted the urge to smack him across the shoulder for looking at her in such a way. “I’m still not buying that dress.”

He helped her pick out a couple of women’s pieces that were a reasonable price and waggled his eyebrows at her when she hastily added some undergarments to the pile. He haggled with the merchant and subtly showed her each coin’s value as he paid, looking like a slow counter of change to anyone who was not privy to her ignorance.

Noelle had little interest in the next stalls but Rylen stopped to buy a bottle of something vaguely pink, and some fruits and little pies. Noelle thought it a bit strange to buy food when the mess served three square meals but the vendors obviously did well enough to warrant staying open so perhaps it was merely that delicious. She was drawn instead to a stall filled with books, and quills, paper, and paints. Eyes wide, she ran her hand lovingly down the spine of what appeared to be a sketchbook. “Please tell me I have enough,” she whispered as Rylen came up behind her.

“Plenty. Are you an artist?”

“I dabble.” She blushed. In truth, she was pretty passionate about it, but it was a hobby she kept close to her chest. Her fiance (ex-fiance, she reminded herself) and her sister were pretty much the only people who had ever seen her work. 

It was a good thing that the items were inexpensive because Noelle wandered away with an armful of supplies, a book on herbs and their uses, and a sudden plan for what to spend much of her future free time on. She shuffled her purchases around, shoving boxes inside bags and generally trying to make her spending spree more manageable before standing and spotting Jim making a beeline past the crowd. “One sec,” she said to Rylen before taking off after the scout. “Jim! Jim!” 

He stopped, looking around for the source with a puzzled look on his face. When he spotted her, he broke into a wide smile. “You aren’t working,” he announced, as though it was news to her.

“No, Surgeon insisted. Listen, I think I’ll need to beg off training tonight. My arm is killing me. Rest days are a good thing where I’m from you know.” She laughed at his concerned face. “I’ll be fine. I might also be busy later and it’s better you aren’t expecting me in case I miss the bells.”

A hand touched her arm and she looked up to see Rylen holding the box with her new brushes. “You dropped this.”

“Oh fuck! Thank you. Rylen, do you know Jim?”

“Only slightly.” Rylen stuck out his hand. “Good to be properly introduced, lad. You’re the one who was watching over our lady on the mountain and got injured, right?”

“I- Yes. I should go. I’ve got…” He shifted awkwardly and lifted his shoulder satchel, indicating there were deliveries to be made. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I should buy you a drink to thank you for all your patience with my crap aim!”

“Sure.” Jim turned, marching off with a roughness she didn’t usually see from him. 

“Poor kid,” Rylen murmured as he retreated.

“Yeah, he’s been through a lot. He was a refugee from Lothering. He survived all that just to almost die on that mountain.”

“Right,” Rylen drew out the word slowly. “That’s not exactly what I meant, but perhaps we should finish up?” Noelle looked at him quizzically and followed his retreat towards the stalls. 

Noelle was done. She needed to buy absolutely nothing more. She repeated that to herself as she accidentally drifted towards the very last stall in the row. It smelled delightful and was filled with pretty bottles, and bars of scented soaps, and something that looked a lot more like a toothbrush than the scraping tool she had been given. Rylen snorted beside her. “This stuff is all Orlesian nonsense. Completely unnecessary.”

“Mhm,” she acknowledged even as she ignored his words and began picking up items and smelling them in turn. This must be where Henrietta had gotten all of her fancy bathing supplies from. “Are you so against this nonsense that you wouldn’t want to be around me if I smelled like this?” She held up a bar of something light and buttery with a hint of lemon to its scent.

He leaned forward skeptically and took a quick sniff before raising an eyebrow and aiming a direct look at her. “Aye, you’d smell good enough to eat,” he rumbled.

She blushed, but she bought the soap along with a toothbrush, a bottle of paste that was mintier and supposedly lathered better than the gritty stuff she’d been using, a bottle of shampoo and something designed for curly hair that sounded like it was a conditioning oil. Her hair was roughening and tangling in unforgivable ways ever since she’d arrived. She had practically spent her entire earnings for the week but she was happy.

Rylen walked her back to the barracks where she could dump her goods unceremoniously onto her bedroll before offering his arm. “So where are we going then?”

“To the lake.”

“The lake?” Noelle froze. “You want to leave Haven?”

“Of course.”

“I, uhh, no. No thank you. The last time I was outside Haven I nearly died. I think I’m good on that front.”

Rylen stopped and turned her to face him. “Listen, lass. I’m not going to force you to do anything but it’s perfectly safe. There are regular patrols around the area and I’ve got my sword. It is also a free day for lots of folks so I imagine we won’t exactly be alone out there.” Noelle’s eyes darted towards Haven’s gates and down to Rylen’s sword before returning to his face. He grinned. “Besides, I’ve gone and bought all this stuff for a nice picnic and I’d prefer better scenery than this.” He gestured to the rows of tents surrounding them.

Her mouth dropped a little. “You bought all that for a picnic?” She hadn’t realized it was intended for both of them. The triumphant look on his face was cut off by a familiar voice.

“Lieutenant,” it barked.

Rylen immediately turned and saluted. “Ser.”

“I need you to review some numbers and troop rotations. I left them at your post.”

“Permission to leave it until morning, Ser? It was meant to be my day off and we were headed towards the lake for a picnic.”

Cullen’s eyes flitted over Noelle before returning to Rylen. “With the healer.” It was said slowly: half somber question, half incredulous statement.

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers right in front of his swollen and bruised nose. “I’m right here. Don’t speak about me as though I’m not.”

He at least had the grace to look embarrassed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Have you been outside Haven yet?”

“No.”

“Are you certain it has been allowed?”

Noelle clenched her fists as she looked up at him. “I wasn’t aware I needed permission to go on a picnic, Commander. Am I still a prisoner or am I not?”

He ignored her question, returning his gaze to Rylen. “You will watch her. The updates can wait until the morning.”

“Aye. Of course, Ser.”

Cullen left. “Asshole,” Noelle muttered at his retreating back. His pace stuttered for a moment before resuming and she was certain he’d heard her.

“The Commander’s not so bad, lass. He’s a little rough around the edges but he’s a good man.”

She snorted. “He’s a Templar.”

“I’m a Templar.”

Noelle turned at looked up at Rylen’s pensive expression. “I forgot,” was all she managed for a couple moments before she continued. “I- My feelings about that are complicated but… I think I like you anyways, if that’s okay.”

He smiled calmly. “It’s a good enough place to start, and maybe one day I can convince you that Templars aren’t all bad.”

“Maybe,” she hedged, faking lightness as she followed Rylen out of Haven. Truth is, she was unnerved. This was two people in two days telling her that Cullen was a better man than she was giving him credit for and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it was pricking at her uncomfortably. She shook it off in favour of enjoying the rest of the afternoon the minute Rylen pulled a large blanket out of his bag. “Where did that come from?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “I cannot reveal my secrets. It’s all a simple man’s got.”

Noelle laughed and helped him spread the blanket along the ground. They were positioned next to the lake under a copse of trees who’s shadows stretched away from them, leaving the warm sunshine to smile on their picnic. She could see dots of other groups a small distance away, but they were mostly alone. “This is beautiful,” she breathed, looking around and taking in the scenery.

“Should I try to take credit for that as well?”

“You can take credit for bringing me here.”

They ate the savoury pies together and Rylen popped open the bottle of pink liquid. It fizzed delightfully and tasted of peaches. Rylen told her a bit about himself, regaling her with tales of his older siblings and the ritual hazing they pulled off before he left home. Evidently, the first time he dislocated his shoulder was because they had convinced him to jump off a roof.

“Your turn now,” he asserted. “Tell me a bit more about you and your home.”

“Just the one sister,” she led with. “But I haven’t seen her in quite awhile. Hadn’t even before I came here. I’d moved a long way away…” Noelle felt a melancholy settling over her that she hadn’t planned for. “But you know all about how that feels,” she laughed awkwardly, an unconvincing cover for her emotions. She could see Rylen’s face growing sympathetic and quickly stood. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“In this lake? Are you daft?”

“It’s a beautiful, warm day,” she protested as she pulled her tunic over her head.

“There’s snow on the ground,” he laughed.

“Such a wuss. Come in with me.” Boots and leggings off, Noelle trotted towards the water in her undergarments.

“Not a chance. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to risk this would you?” He wiggled his slung arm a little.

As her foot hit the water, she felt icy cold creeping its way upwards and pressed her lips together against the urge to shout. The cold was sharp. 

“Are you regretting your decision yet?”

“Nope.” Up to her knees, she could see her skin breaking out in goosebumps. She was very much regretting her decision. Fuck if she was going to admit it though. She made it up to mid-thigh and dove in before her shivering convinced her to do otherwise. The ice enveloping her was like a million needles across her face. She stood with a shriek. “Fucking biscuits, that is cold!”

She began wading towards the shore as quickly as she could and watched as Rylen cleared the blanket of all items and held it up for her. He wrapped it around her as soon as she hit the shore and rubbed her arms vigorously. “Still no regrets?”

“N-Nop-pe,” she chattered, looking up from her position in his arms. His face, tilted down towards her, was surprisingly close and her cheeks suddenly felt quite warm.

“You are a brave woman,” he murmured and her heart rate started to increase. She nervously pulled the blanket closer around her but she refused to look away. He took it as permission. His lips pressed against hers firmly and found herself rocking forward onto the balls of her feet to press back, one hand clutching the blanket and the other resting gently against his chest for balance. He kissed her slowly and with confidence, his tongue brushing against her lips and sweeping inside when they parted for him. 

She startled when his hand crept inside the blanket and curled around her bare side, sweeping a thumb over her ribcage. “Is this okay,” he hummed against her lips.

“Yes,” she mumbled through another kiss. She moved with him, allowing him to walk her backwards until her back bumped into a tree, snaking her hands around his neck as he pressed against her with a low groan. 

She felt the hand on her side shift lower, grazing over her hip and around to cup her rear. Another hand matched it and she tried to pull away as she realized what he was about to do. “Rylen, stop.” 

He began to lift her anyways before he quickly dropped her back with a hiss, grabbing his bad shoulder. “Maker’s hairy ballsack,” he grunted. “That fucking hurt.”

“I tried to warn you,” she laughed. 

“One day,” he growled, “it will be healed. And then I might just have to pin you down for laughing at me.”

“Is that a promise, Lieutenant?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa. An entire chapter from Noelle's perspective. Blimey. It's been awhile. *author waves* Hullo, Noelle's head! -- Simple questions this week. Yes or no answers on all fronts. As always, please motivate me with your comments, questions, feedback, what-have-yous. It really makes my day and I super appreciate those of you who do <3
> 
> Do Rylen and Noelle ‘haveth the sex’?  
> \- **Yes! They absolutely have sex.** Winner! (58%)  
>  \- Pfft. No. Ridiculous.
> 
> Noelle is going to check in on how Cullen’s nose is healing. Does she apologize for calling him an 'asshole'?  
> \- **Yes** Tie! (50%)  
>  \- **No** Tie! (50%)
> 
> Worldbuilding: Did this world state come from Noelle's playthroughs?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (56%)  
>  \- No


	12. An Untold Secret (Or Two, Or Three)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The votes were really close this week! Thanks everyone who voted for participating :) There was another tie this week so I just started writing the scene and let it play out how it would.
> 
> Do Rylen and Noelle ‘haveth the sex’?  
> \- **Yes! They absolutely have sex.** Winner! (58%)  
>  \- Pfft. No. Ridiculous.
> 
> Noelle is going to check in on how Cullen’s nose is healing. Does she apologize for calling him an 'asshole'?  
> \- **Yes** Tie! (50%)  
>  \- **No** Tie! (50%)
> 
> Worldbuilding: Did this world state come from Noelle's playthroughs?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (56%)  
>  \- No

“Where have you been?” The question was filled with urgent irritation. She could hear it in the rough press of his voice and it made her take a step backwards.

“Doesn’t seem like that’s your business, Solas.”

He deflated quickly, holding his hands out in a conciliatory gesture that had become common between them. “I am sorry, lethallan. I was worried. You are alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was just at the tavern with Rylen and we stayed up a bit late drinking and chatting.”

Solas paused, his expression thoughtful before a sneer snuck onto his face. “The Templar.”

“Yes.” She watched him press his lips together, a taut line of disapproval. “Something you want to say about that?”

“No.” The word was sharp. It implied there were many things he wanted to say about it but he was reading her well enough not to provoke her. It was unfair, really. He could read her emotions as clearly as she felt them, but she only had access to his when he decided it was advantageous to share.

“It will be more difficult for me to find you tomorrow evening. I do not wish to fight during the time we have, lethallan.”

Noelle felt a wave of endearment and connection wash over her, and she no longer wished to fight either. Even after his own feelings left her, a portion of that sensation remained and she wasn’t certain if it truly belonged to her or was somehow left behind. “Why will it be more difficult tomorrow?” She asked instead of interrogating his effect on her feelings.  _ If it was him, did he know? _

“We will be farther away. It will be more difficult to follow your call in the Fade.”

“I haven’t been calling you,” she protested weakly, somehow knowing she would be refuted.

Solas smiled. “Not aloud, no, but your spirit calls out and I find you are easy to track.”

_ He says it as though I am prey.  _ She was so irritated by him, and somehow she still felt an intense closeness that she wasn’t sure how to interpret. Perhaps it was the connection to the Fade he kept speaking of and maybe it was something else. Regardless, where she could carry her anger at others forward, she kept losing her ire for him. It slipped through her fingers like rivulets of water. Whenever she grasped for it, she found it was already gone.

The silence stretched on and Solas seemed quite content to let it. If he was going to insist on being in her dreams, he could at least entertain her. “So, how was your day?”

He looked surprised. “How was my day.” He repeated the words slowly, as though they were somehow confusing.

“Yes.”

“We made good time. We will likely reach our destination tomorrow.”

“Right. But did you see anything interesting? Is everyone getting on okay? How was your day?”

“Varric told a number of stories,” he eventually offered.

Noelle laughed. “That sounds about right.”

“Come. I will show you where we are.”

“Huh?”

“Our encampment this evening, it is quite pretty.”

He took her hand and pulled her forward without waiting for an indication of assent. Over the course of a half dozen steps, the scenery changed. They were suddenly next to a creek that burbled and splashed its way downstream, the pattern of leaves dancing in shadows across its surface. Noelle looked around, taking in the peace and the rich colours and the sound of birds chirping. “It really is beautiful.”

“A last moment of peace before we get too close to the fighting. I am pleased I could share it with you.”

She sat next to the creek, pulling off her boots and dipping her feet into the cool water. Solas hovered for a moment before sitting next to her. He began to unwrap his feet and Noelle found herself watching his hands as they enacted practised motions with grace and ease. “Why do you wear those? I mean- if it’s not rude to ask. I’ve never spent time with an elf before. Sorry.”

“That is unsurprising. Most humans look on us as barely worth existing, nevermind having something worthwhile to say.”

“No. It’s not like that,” she hurried to correct the impression, despite the mild tone of his response. “I’d just never met one before. There are no elves in my world. I always thought they were a myth.”

He chuckled. “I assure you, I am no myth. Though, there are myths about me.”  He looked startled at his own admission and she immediately wanted to tug on that thread a bit.

“Really? Like what?”

He shook his head. “Another time perhaps. It is not a story for tonight.” He stood suddenly. “I should go. I will speak with you as soon as I am able. Goodnight.”

He was gone. The footwraps remained in tidy pile on the ground.

\--

Cullen heard the deep wavering breath and looked up to see who was so reticent to come speak to him.  _ Of course.  _ Here he’d hoped for a frightened underling; at least he knew what to do with those. He never knew what to do with the healer. His heart rate quickened.

Maker, but she made him nervous.

“I’ve come to check on your nose.” She was brusque. She clearly did not want to be here.

“It’s fine.” He didn’t want her here either.

“Actually, Commander, it’s not fine. I noticed it when we bumped into you yesterday. It should be looking better than that by now. Rylen told me you keep pinching it.” He didn't tell her that he sometimes did it on purpose, using the pain to distract of the nausea and sweat and headaches that also plagued him. At least it was a different pain.

She didn’t wait for permission to walk around his desk and gently press a cold pack against his face. His hand darted up to grasp her wrist instinctively, wrapping his fingers easily around her.  He froze, staring into her face. She hadn’t even jerked away, clearly used to unpredictable reactions from her patients. She quirked an eyebrow, looking pointedly at his hand. He dropped it. “I'm sorry,” she said. He slowly looked back towards her face. “We haven’t had the best relationship but that doesn’t mean I can abandon the courtesy of informing you of what I’m going to do ahead of time.”

“That’s what you’re apologising for?”

“Yes.”

“I thought-” He cut himself off. It didn’t matter what he thought. He needed her to leave so he could stop feeling so anxious.

“You thought what?” Her voice was a mildly curious hum as she peered closely at the bruised swelling on his face. She had slipped into some sort of detached doctor mode, her response clearly without thought.

“I thought you were apologising for what you said yesterday.”

“I’m going to press here,” she stated, gesturing with her hand. “What did I say yesterday?”

He felt his face heat and hoped he wasn’t growing visibly red. “You called me an asshole,” he muttered.

She pulled away sharply, levelling him with an icy stare. He was certain he was red now. “If you don’t want to be called an asshole, then don’t behave like one.”

“I was not being an asshole.”

He could sense from her deep, shuddering breath that she was mentally pulling herself back from yelling in his face. “Fucking hell. I should have made Henrietta come.”

“Yes. Why didn’t you? You could have saved yourself the tyranny of my presence,” he retorted.

“And subject her to it? Poor woman’s terrified enough of you already.”

He was surprised. He expected the recruits to have some fear of him. It was his job to instill discipline and order; there was yelling involved. One of the healers, though, that surprised him. “I’m sure it’s natural when you’ve been saying horrible things about me every chance you’ve got.”

“Oh, of course! The perfect Chantry boy can’t possibly have done anything to get a bad reputation on his own. It must be the slanderous prisoner tearing the Inquisition apart from the inside,” she snarled.

He stood, towering over her and cornering her against the desk with his frame. “I wouldn’t put it past you. We don’t even know where you’re from.”

“There he is,” she scoffed. “Cullen Rutherford: Man who fears what he doesn’t understand.”

“Get out of my tent,” he growled, nearly shouting. He wasn’t sure when his volume had increased so much.

“I can’t yet,” she shouted back. Her shoulders and head dropped as she slumped against his desk. “I came here to help you.”

He was without words. She suddenly looked much smaller and he was aware of how intimidating his posture must be. He took a quick step backwards, bumping into his chair and falling awkwardly onto it with a surprised grunt.

A soft huff of air from her mouth accompanied a teasing smile. She cleared her throat awkwardly, the smile quickly disappearing.

“How are you so infuriating?” He asked the question with no malice, surprising himself with his own teasing tone.

“Let’s not go down that road. I brought you something.” She pulled a small jar and a packet of some sort.

“What is it?”

“I worked together with Surgeon and Adan to mix this. I’m going to make a bit of a cast for your nose.”

He looked at the items in her hand skeptically. Adan was hardly his first choice as a healer, even to mix potions and poultices, and the strange term did not quell his concerns. “A cast?”

“Okay, so you have seen when someone breaks a leg and they stabilize it by strapping it between some straight planks?” He nodded, unsure how that could possibly translate to his nose and growing a little more uneasy. “Where I’m from,” she continued, “we would surround the whole leg with something called a cast. It can start soft and can shape itself around the limb, or nose, and then harden to protect it. I’m going to make one for you.”

It sounded simple enough. It didn’t sound magic. He wasn’t afraid of pain. He didn’t think it was sabotage. Why was he still so nervous?

“Okay?”

“Yes. Go ahead, but make it quick. I have work to do.” He knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth that he’d overcompensated and gone too far in the direction of not caring as to be abrasive.

“Okay, let’s get this straight, Commander. I took notice, while you ignored me and then demanded I be watched, that your nose was not healing as well as it should be. I thought about the issue and consulted with other people about how we could help you. I worked to create something brand new to this place because  _ you  _ are incapable of keeping your hands away from your face. You respond by telling me to hurry it up because you’re too busy for my assistance-- and you complain when people call you an asshole? Does that about sum it up?”

He felt the deep punch of shame in his gut at the same time as his defensiveness insisted that he would have apologized if she’d only given him a second before streaming her accusations at him. She wouldn’t even give him a chance to be himself, to be likeable. It was impossible.

Not that he cared if she liked him.

“Sorry,” he eventually grumbled. “I have been in pain and it has shortened my patience.”

“Well,” she began as she cleared a space on his desk for her tools. “I hope you aren’t taking it out on your soldiers in addition to me.”

“Of course not. Well, maybe on occasion.”

She shot him a look that clearly said,  _ of course you have.  _ “Tilt your head back. I’m going to start applying it now.”

He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head over the top of the seat back. She came around to his side and placed a small circle of something soft over his nose. “I wish I’d thought of this earlier. It’s already quite swollen and it will be less effective at managing the healing now.”

He grunted an acknowledgment as he closed his eyes. It was easier to cope with her presence when he wasn’t looking at her. She came back with a wet strip of cloth, laying it over top of the soft padding she had placed first. It was cold. Slowly, strip by strip, she built something over top of his nose. He could tell when a new strip was about to be placed as her scent washed over him each time she leaned over him. It was faintly sweet, like a citrus meringue, and calming. He inhaled deeply each time she came near and squeezed the armrests on his chair, grateful his eyes were closed so he could not see her hips and pull her into his lap to bury his face in that smell.

He clenched, berating himself for such a stupid thought.

“It’s done but stay still. It won’t stay in place properly until its dry.”

He opened his eyes, abruptly drawn out of his reverie. “How long?”

“Three hours.” He nearly snapped his head up but her hand quickly wrapped over his forehead and reminded his body to drop back. “Relax. I’m joking. Should be about fifteen minutes based on the test batch.”

Well, at least he wasn’t the test batch.

“Your forehead is quite clammy,” she commented as she pulled her hand away. “Are you feeling okay?”

Of course she would notice. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I could ask-”

“I’m fine,” he interjected, a little more roughly than he intended. “In fact, I’d appreciate you not mentioning it to anyone. I don’t have time for an interrogation over my health.”

“I- Sure. Of course. This might be Thedas but I still believe in doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“What?” Sometimes the things she said thoroughly addled his mind.

“Anything you tell me as my patient will be kept in confidence.”

“Oh.”

“So is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No.” Absolutely not. It was not even worth considering. This was not a woman he could expose his vulnerabilities to.

But it was worth remembering.

\--

“Come on, keep up.”

“I’m not- this- not my- thing,” she huffed behind him.

Rylen laughed. “Was that meant to be Common, lass?”

“Shu’up.”

They were running a lap around the lake, an antidote to the restlessness Noelle had been expressing to him. The Herald had been gone a few days now and the Commander was waiting on news before much else needed to be done, leaving Rylen with extra time to spend with her after he finished running men through a few training exercises. Honestly, he didn’t do quiet time well and was equally antsy. Having been ordered off exercise for the past week also did not help - though considering the hilarious piece over the Commander's nose, he got out of that one easy.

The argument had been amusing. He knew he would win the moment she looked longingly towards the front gate, plans of going to the tavern forgotten. If she would’t let him pick up a weapon or spar hand-to-hand, she could compromise on an easy jog around the lake.

“I need to stop,” she wheezed, hands braced on her knees for a moment before she stood and walked towards him. “I can barely breathe.”

“Are you saying I take your breath away,” he quipped, taking up an easy pace beside her.

“That was shameful, lieutenant.” She grinned, panting softly. “How long have you been holding onto that?”

“About since your breathing became louder than your footfalls.”

“And now you’re mocking me. What kind of man are you?”

“One who can run all the way around a small lake.”

“Rude. It’s not my sport. Requires different muscles… and better cardio.”

Rylen watched her face as she spoke, fascinated by the flush of red in her cheeks and neck and the pulsing of soft skin below her jaw. His eyes wandered lower, to the rise and fall of her chest as she grasped for more air. He was only half listening, part of her statement flying over his head anyways. He took hold of her elbow, pulling her into him and kissing her hard and slow.

He had only kissed her once since the picnic, a quick kiss as they parted ways later that night. Every other time he saw her they had been around enough people to make the kind of kiss he wanted as he watched her lips wholly inappropriate. Now that they were alone, he could finally have it.

Andraste’s knickers, her lips were soft. He pressed into her mouth, exploring every bit of her he could get to. His hands roamed freely, gripping her hips and then running up her sides, wrapping around her back and pulling her flush against him. His shoulder ached as he curled over her but he didn’t care. He would lay her down in the wet snow right now if she would let him.

A tug on his ear brought him back and he stepped away. She shook her head, grinning at him as she waved a hand slowly in front of her chest. “Not helping with the breath,” she managed.

“There’s an abandoned cabin not too far away,” he found himself saying. “Some of the patrols use it when they need to sneak off for some alone time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we make our way to a derelict building to fuck on the same abandoned bed as dozens of others? I assume they’re not exactly washing the sheets regularly.”

“I, uhh, well when you put it like that, maybe not.” Honestly, he didn’t think her interpretation of his proposal sounded so terrible but he wanted her to be comfortable.

He chanced a look to see how offended she was but she looked more amused than upset. Thank the Maker.

Her expression shifted, becoming more thoughtful. “I sleep in a large tent with multiple other women,” she sighed.

He pulled her back into his body, relishing the heat of her skin against his chest. He leaned in, growling against her ear. “I have my own tent, but you might regret not choosing the cabin if you wanted to keep this private because I  _will_  have you screaming my name in the middle of the camp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more creative than just 'yes/no' this week! I hope you're still enjoying making decisions! 
> 
> The Herald is bringing back something unexpected from the Crossroads. What is it?  
> \- A piece of surprising information  
> \- **A curious artifact of unknown purpose** Winner! (56%)  
>  \- A strange creature (deceased)
> 
> Noelle decides to brave the world outside Haven for the first time on her own. What does she encounter?  
> \- A pack of wolves  
> \- Bandits  
> \- **An apostate** Winner! (59%)
> 
> Worldbuilding: What happened to Leliana at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?  
> \- Elissa Cousland defiled the ashes and was forced to kill Leliana as a result.  
> \- **The ashes were respected and Leliana realized she was in love with Elissa.** Winner! (90%)
> 
> Comments are life! I'm also always available on [Tumblr](https://kimpossibility.tumblr.com/) for chats and whatnot.


	13. A Rendezvous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Herald is bringing back something unexpected from the Crossroads. What is it?  
> \- A piece of surprising information  
> \- **A curious artifact of unknown purpose** Winner! (56%)  
>  \- A strange creature (deceased)
> 
> Noelle decides to brave the world outside Haven for the first time on her own. What does she encounter?  
> \- A pack of wolves  
> \- Bandits  
> \- **An apostate** Winner! (59%)
> 
> Worldbuilding: What happened to Leliana at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?  
> \- Elissa Cousland defiled the ashes and was forced to kill Leliana as a result.  
> \- **The ashes were respected and Leliana realized she was in love with Elissa.** Winner! (90%)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** This work is rated mature and is going to remain that way in order to be as inclusive as possible. So heads up that there is some brief smut in this chapter but it is short and not explicit for those who aren't interested in that sort of thing. For those you are, the extended and explicit version of any sex scene in this fic will be posted in a separate fic that should be up in the next day or two. TW this chapter for talk of STIs and derogatory terms about sex workers.

Noelle followed Rylen, half walking and half running as they wove through the tents, laughing. When he stopped suddenly, she collided with his back. “This is me,” he said as he wrapped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her in front of him. He crushed his lips against hers, both of them smiling and giggling as he pushed forward and walked her into the small tent. “It’s humble,” he said by way of apology as he let her go so she could look around.

It was small. There was barely room to stand between the bed, chest, a small folding desk, chair, and an armour stand. “I sleep on the floor in a tent with a dozen other women,” she reminded him. “You’re practically living in luxury by Inquisition standards.”

He wrapped his arms around her from behind this time, growling in her ears. “And its luxuries are multiplying.”

She huffed a laugh, reaching up to wack one of the arms wrapped around her. “You are truly awful.”

“You think I’m charming,” he asserted. She felt the tip of his tongue run up the edge of her ear as one hand pushed itself under her tunic and snaked upwards to toy at the edge of her new breastband.

“Cheesy is more accurate,” she retorted, but her voice had suddenly grown breathy and it lacked any punch.

“Is that supposed to mean something, lass?” He fit the question between slow kisses placed across her neck.

“Nothing.” She shivered as his breath wafted across her ear, chilling the wet places his tongue had traced. She stepped away so she could turn and face him on more even footing. “Just something from my world.”

He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. “Thank you for reminding me that I’m kissing an otherworldly creature.” He smirked and interrupted her eye roll with a harsh press of his lips and her exasperation with his ridiculous jokes was promptly forgotten. 

Their undressing was disjointed, with Noelle’s eagerness to see all the hard muscle underneath Rylen’s clothing stripping him quickly before she knelt between his legs. “I want to see you,” he managed between shuddering breaths.

Noelle stood, slowly pulling her tunic over her head, feeling shy despite her impulsive foray into the lake in only her underthings a few days ago. She could feel his intention in the stiffness of his arms when he reached for her and she stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. “You’re healing,” she reminded him. “Let me.”

He let her push him gently onto his back, and she blushed at the tight expression on his face as she moved leisurely back and forth above him, testing his patience. When his hands came to her hips in an attempt to exert control, she gathered them up in hers, leaning forward and holding them above his head and silencing his protest with her lips. “Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet,” she teased.

Rylen groaned, straining towards her and hungrily capturing her lips. He was sweating, despite her forcing him to be still, and she took pity on him, quickening the pace to match the twitching of his muscles until they both finished and she collapsed on him in a sweaty heap.

“Maker. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a woman do it like that before.”

“You like to be in control.”

“That cuts deep,” he laughed. “Perhaps I’m just a natural giver.”

“Forgive me for denying your nature.” She giggled along with him. “But your shoulder will thank me for it.”

“I’m thanking you for it. That was…” He ended his sentence with a satisfied groan and rolled her over to his side, tucking her in under his good arm. “I, uhh, I should apologize.”

“Oh?”

“I should have warned you before I… We’ll go to Adan together and get some witherstalk, okay?”

_ Witherstalk? What is- Oh.   _ “We don’t have to. I have a-” She stiffened.  _ An intrauterine device which you would have no concept about. A device I got for my previous relationship with my fiance that ended only a month ago. A device that does not protect against diseases. What the fuck was I thinking? _ “-a thing to protect against pregnancy,” she finished lamely.

“Are you okay, lass?”

Noelle bolted out of bed. “This was a mistake.” She began picking up pieces of her clothing off the floor. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Whoa.” Rylen rose off the bed and gathered her into his arms, making soothing noises as though she were a startled animal. “I’m sorry.”

Noelle shook her head. “It’s me- So dumb... I didn’t… this was the first....” She was vaguely aware that she was unable to form full sentences before her thought jumped to something new.

Rylen twitched. “This was your first?”

“No. No no. Fuck no. That wasn’t a full sentence. Jesus Christ.” She pulled away and sat on the cot, forcing herself to slow her breathing and calm down as she shakily pulled on clothing. Rylen slid on his bottoms, then stood watching her helplessly.

“I’m sorry. I’m okay. I just had the sudden realization that this was the first time I’d been with anyone since my fiance.”

Rylen watched her, speaking slowly. “You are engaged to another man in your world.”

“Not anymore. I ended things a little before arriving here. But it hasn’t been that long and- and I don’t know what it says about me that I didn’t even think about that before…” She gestured around the tent in a broad expression of her meaning.

“It says nothing about you. You have no obligations.”

“Maybe.” She heaved a sigh, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined this whole thing by having a meltdown.”

“You’ve ruined nothing, lass.” He knelt down in front of her, rubbing her thighs gently.

She shook her head. “And I’m about to make it worse. When was the last time you were tested?”

“Tested? Like, as a Templar?”

“Shit. No. Of course you wouldn’t get tested here. That’s not a thing. I- I guess I’m asking about diseases?” She flinched as she asked, scrunching her eyes closed on the word.

Rylen chuckled. “I haven’t been to a brothel in a long while. I do not have the whore’s disease.”

“Ugh. Is that what you call it here? That’s a bit judgmental.” Rylen shrugged. “In any case, that’s not the only place to get something, you know.”

“It’s the only common one,” he reassured. “Most folks just go to a healer. They won’t have it for long.” A fuzzy recollection of Anders curing folks with sexually transmitted infections felt reassuring. At least any unwanted side effects of her poor judgment were unlikely to be permanent.

“I should go. I- I need to think.”

\--

Noelle was walking towards the tavern when she felt a strong pulse of relief wash through her for no obvious reason. It felt messy, like it had been released by accident rather than sent to her on purpose, but the sensation was immediately identifiable and she knew what to expect when she turned around. Solas closed the distance between them quickly. His was walk was purposeful and he moved a hand towards her cheek as he arrived in front of her. It hovered just shy of her skin and dropped. “I am pleased to see that you are safe,” he began. His hand moved safely behind his back, clasped in the other.

She struggled to determine how to respond. Her first urge was to say something teasing or sarcastic in response but his simple gesture, so quickly abandoned, stopped her. He looked at her earnestly, searching her face for something. “How was your trip?” Her eventual response felt awkward but his silent appraisal of her made her squirm and she had to say something. 

“We have collected the only representative of the Chantry who seems at all worth having. The situation caused by the warring Templars and mages out there has caused a great deal of destruction and death. She at least attempts to help while her compatriots bicker and politick needlessly. It remains to be seen how absorbed she is in her faith and whether she will be a benefit.”

“You sound more like a politician or a leader than a humble apostate kept around for his Fade expertise.” She smiled. She meant it as a compliment but his expression was a strange mix of surprise, irritation and shame. “I’m sorry?”

“Solas!” The Herald was calling from down the road. “No time to lose. You can talk to your ward later.”

Noelle felt herself bristle at the implication that she was in any way reliant on the elf. She waited for him to correct it but he merely frowned slightly. “I must take my leave.”

“What’s going on?”

“We found something in the HInterlands that none of us has ever seen before. The Herald wishes me to run some tests to determine its nature.”

“Do you think it’s dangerous?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t the slightest idea. It is entirely outside the realm of anything I have ever seen.” He hesitated for a moment, regarding her. “If it is, I will ensure that you are kept safe from its influence.”

Her irritation returned quickly. No wonder Trevelyan was calling her Solas’s ward. “I don’t need your protection.”

“No. I suppose you have your Templar for that,” he responded wryly, his eyes dark. “I can smell him all over you.”

“What’s your point, Solas?”

“Perhaps you should be more cautious before you attach yourself to someone in the military arm of a violent and oppressive organization. Most of them are bullies who enjoy the power gained from imprisoning others.”

“So you don’t trust me to judge the character of those I associate with.”

“I think you understand significantly less than you think you do.”

“You know fuck all about me so get off your damn high horse and mind your own business.” She stormed off before he had a chance to respond.

\--

“I need to get out of here,” she announced as she put down her bow.

“What, like to the tavern?” Jim scrunched his face in confusion.

“No. Outside Haven. I’m annoyed and I’m anxious and I just need to get out of here for a bit.”

“I thought you were scared to leave Haven.”

“I was. Rylen kind of convinced me that there’s less danger out there than I thought. Do you want to come for a walk?”

Jim reslung his bow across his back. “I don’t actually have much more time tonight. If you had said at the beginning... I could take you tomorrow? I’m sorry, I just don’t have time.” He fiddled nervously with the edge of his right-hand glove.

She smiled reassuringly. “No worries. Another time. You’re my friend, not my escort,” she teased, glad to see his posture relax a bit. “I am perfectly capable of going for a walk on my own.”

“Oh, please don’t go alone. It’s safe but it’s not really unarmed civilian safe.”

“I’ll be fine, Jim. Don’t worry about me.”

“Maybe I can speak to someone and free myself up to come with you,” he protested. “It’s not a good idea for you to go by yourself.”

“There is nothing out there for me to worry about, and patrols are by every hour to make sure things stay that way. I don’t feel like the frightened person who had that conversation with you a few weeks ago. I can go for a walk.”

“I don’t like it.”

Noelle laughed off his remaining concern. He was such a sweetheart that his attempts to protect her didn’t needle her the same way Solas’s did. Speaking of which, she really did want to be as far away from him as possible right now. Rylen too. She didn’t think she could manage speaking to either at the moment.

It was wondrous how quickly the sounds of Haven dropped off just a hundred metres past the last line of tents. She felt the freedom of being alone with only wilderness to accompany her and stilled her breathing to listen to the silence. There was nothing but the rustle of wind through the grasses and the occasional buzz of something flying past her head. She idly wondered what season it was. The sunshine and melting snow of the ground made her think spring, but she didn’t really know. Thedas was a new world with a new climate.

New men.

She shook her head. It was foolish, she saw that now. She wasn’t ready to get into anything new yet. It was just, being in a fantasy world kind of made a person forget things like emotional and mental readiness when a handsome man with a sword started flirting with you and made you feel desired for the first time since… Well, it would do no good to go there. She squashed the feeling down into the same place she’d put all her other feelings about being in a completely new life.

Noelle closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind of anxious ruminations and be more present in the moment. The sound of snow crunched under foot drew her attention and her eyes popped open, her heart suddenly thudding more loudly than the wind. She whirled around and locked eyes with a man who quickly brought his hands up to form a projectile made from ice. It rushed through the air towards her, stopping a couple feet in front of her and hovering in the air.

She put her hands up, hoping against hope that the gesture would communicate the same thing here as it did at home. “Don’t come any closer.” The voice that sent the warning was shaky and icicle wobbled in the air as he spoke.

“Okay,” was all she managed. 

“I will kill you.”

“Okay.”

“Who are you? What is your allegiance?”

“M-my name is Noelle. I guess I’m with the Inquisition?” She squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to see her death hurtling towards her if the answer was not met with approval. She heard a soft thud and opened her eyes to see the ice on the ground and the man striding towards her. As he approached, she discovered he wasn’t a man but really just a boy of about thirteen or fourteen. 

“Take me to Hawke,” he demanded. “I need to speak to Hawke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding: Is Hawke a man or woman?  
> \- **Man** Winner! (55%)  
>  \- Woman
> 
> Leliana is going to have a _serious_ conversation with Noelle. Does she know about the apostate?  
>  \- **Yes** Winner! (74%)  
>  \- No
> 
> Rylen will need to track Noelle down to get her to talk to him. Where does he eventually corner her?  
> \- **The clinic** Winner! (60%)  
>  \- The tavern  
> \- The women’s ‘barracks’
> 
> Question about the questions: I usually update the results in the chapter from which they were posted as well as the next chapter so people can see them. It occurs to me that some people might not want to know the winner until the section is written. Would anyone prefer that the results are kept only to the previous chapter or feel strongly that they should be posted at the beginning of the new one? 
> 
> Additionally, is there anything also about how this is going that you think could be tweaked for a better experience? REASSURE ME PEOPLE! <3


	14. An Apostate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding: Is Hawke a man or woman?  
> \- **Man** Winner! (55%)  
>  \- Woman
> 
> Leliana is going to have a _serious_ conversation with Noelle. Does she know about the apostate?  
>  \- **Yes** Winner! (74%)  
>  \- No
> 
> Rylen will need to track Noelle down to get her to talk to him. Where does he eventually corner her?  
> \- **The clinic** Winner! (60%)  
>  \- The tavern  
> \- The women’s ‘barracks’

Noelle shifted awkwardly. What would he do when she told him? “I’m sorry,” she eventually offered, watching his defensive stance warily. “I don’t think there’s anybody by that name here.”

The boy narrowed his eyes, his body tense. “The Champion of Kirkwall. Hawke. I demand to be taken to him.”

She shook her head. “Hawke’s not here.”

She could see the fear growing in his eyes, although outwardly he didn’t move a muscle. “That’s not possible. Everybody said they were looking for him, and they took Messere Tethras. Where is he then?” The tears welling in his eyes both pulled at her, tugging strands of empathy that nearly had her rushing to console him, and worried her. If he became more emotional, would he lash out?

“Varric is here. Does that help?”

He twitched, gears turning clunkily and catching on something that was holding him back. “Maybe. Can he protect me?” His voice came out as hardly a whisper; young and vulnerable. Realizing the opening, he raised his hands again to pull ice crystals from the air. “Not physically. I can… I could kill you where you stand. I’m not weak.”

“I believe you.”

Noelle heard a laugh in the distance. “That will be Inquisition patrols. They can take you to Haven and to Varric.”

The boy’s eyes went wide as he jerked his head in the direction of the noise. “No,” he hissed sharply. “I know what that kind does to my kind. Take me to Varric or-” He swallowed. “I'll kill you if I have to.”

She could tell he didn’t want to. Threats didn’t come naturally to this kid but he was scared and didn’t know how else to get what he needed. Thedas was a scary place for mage kids, she knew that much. Still, she wasn’t going to risk anything by not taking his threats seriously. “Okay, this way.” She led him back towards Haven, moving at a fast clip away from the patrol.

She couldn’t hear the silence that had delighted her so much. Her heart was pounding, a rushing beat in her head. Her thoughts raced but were half-formed and she managed to do nothing but put one foot in front of another and watch the rows of tents outside the city walls grow larger. “You might want to wait here,” she said as they approached a large tree about a hundred metres from the edge of the camp. 

“No way. You’re not leaving me here to go get guards or Templars to lock me up.”

“I can’t just walk you through town looking for Varric either. The place is stuffed with guards, soldiers, Templars, and circle mages. You’ll hardly go unnoticed.”

“You’ll just have to figure it out. I’m not letting you walk away from me.” His words were an order but his voice tinged with desperation made it almost a plea.

Noelle shrugged and took up her walk again. The kid walked beside her as though he was a companion, but his tense gait and darting eyes gave him away immediately. What would he do if they were questioned?  She watched the movement of people through the tents, looking for pockets that were less busy to head towards. One figure was not moving, standing still just beyond the edge of the commotion and waiting.

Solas.

Had he heard her thoughts and come to check on her? If so, she was never more grateful for his invasive behaviour. He saw them and began to approach, strategically meeting them far enough from everyone else that they could hold a conversation without being overheard, but not so far that a full blown fight would go unnoticed. Clever man.

Noelle could feel the rising tension in her walking companion as Solas approached. “I have been looking for you, lethallan. Who is your new friend?”

The words acknowledging his unfamiliarity initiated a quick response from the boy. Almost instantly, an icicle had been summoned to his hand and was held against Noelle’s throat. Its edge was sharp and pressed into her skin such that she wasn’t sure if the drop of liquid slowly running down her neck was blood or melted ice. “If you try and do anything, I’ll kill her.” He stood behind her, minimizing the target he created.

Solas appeared outwardly calm and Noelle was torn between hoping he could kill the kid with a glance and worrying he might actually do it. “I wish you no ill will.” He held out his hands in the placating gesture he had used so frequently on Noelle since their acquaintance. He gestured to his staff. “We have similar vulnerabilities, young man.”

“You don’t understand at all,” he responded, the edge of a sob in his voice. “I know what they’ll do. I won’t be made Tranquil.”

Solas’s eyes narrowed. “I would not have that either. Please, my name is Solas. Your name?”

The hand on her shoulder squeezed and the icicle pressed a little deeper into her. “Just- just call me Cricket.”

“What would you have of me, Cricket?” Although his eyes never left the boy, the question was directed to both of them.

“Leave us.”

“He wants to speak to Varric. He thinks he might help him.”

Solas’s eyes twitched slightly. “This woman is a friend of Varric’s. You will not ingratiate yourself by threatening her.”

“It’s too late for that.” The volume in his voice was rising.

“Solas, maybe you could go get Varric and meet us over by that tree before we attract any more attention?”

Solas inclined his head in affirmation.

“But if you bring soldiers or Templars or anyone but Messere Tethras, I swear I will kill her.”

Noelle could see the slight tension flexing in his jaw as Solas absorbed the threat a second time. “This woman is important to me,” he began, his voice a low growl. “If you kill her, Templars will be the least of your concern.”

\--

Varric scurried after Solas, baffled at the elf’s urgent gait. “Solas, what’s going on? ‘Come immediately’ isn’t much of an explanation.”

“An acquaintance of yours wishes to speak with you.”

“Okay, sure. No problem, just slow down. My legs can’t keep up.”

“He has Noelle.”

Varric felt a rush of dread coil around his stomach and he redoubled his efforts at speed. “What do you mean ‘has her’?”

“He has made a threat to her life. I would prefer that does not come to pass.”

Varric made no comment on the dispassionate tone of the communication but he suspected there was more than the mild irritation that might otherwise be inferred behind Solas’s words.

“It is a child,” Solas continued. “Only just come of age, and I believe only recently into his magic as well.”

“A child?” Varric tried to think if he even knew any children. Running a tawdry tavern didn’t often bring one into the company of minors. Neither did any of his other pursuits, honestly.

He found himself following Solas outside of Haven, practically trotting at his feet. “Where are we going?” He grunted.

No response. 

“We are unaccompanied.” He spoke, seemingly to the air, and Noelle appeared, flanked by a young man with floppy auburn hair. The youth had wild eyes that fixated on Varric. There was something familiar that tugged at him but he couldn’t say he knew him.

“What can I do to help?” He made himself his most reassuring and affable. He was good at that. He should be able to diffuse this situation.

“Where is Hawke? Walter said if I ever needed help that I could rely on Hawke.”

“I don’t know, lad.” The lie came easily. At the same moment the recollection of a pair of boys, left behind after Hawke was forced to kill the woman looking after them, popped into his mind. He remembered Hawke had given all the refugee children money and helped them get adopted. The memory was slowly folding together in his mind. This one was- “Cricket. You called yourself Cricket, right?” The kid nodded. “We’d heard you were adopted. What happened, kid?”

Cricket raised his hands, causing little ice crystals to gather. “This happened!” He was escalating. At least his attention was directed towards Varric now. He saw in the corner of his eye that Noelle had eased away from the lad and Solas had quickly pulled her behind him. 

“Okay, kid. I hear you. I guess after what happened to the Chantry, your adoptive parents weren’t feeling particularly safe once all that magic came out, hey?”

“They sent for the Templars to take me away-- but I wouldn’t go. I won’t go. Evelina didn’t go and neither will I. I’ll die before I get locked up or let them-” He stopped suddenly.

Fierce kid.

“There’s hardly anyone to lock you up anyways. Most Templars are off fighting the mages. Are there even any left in Kirkwall after the Conclave?” Reassure. Distract.

“I don’t know.” The boy shook his head. “I left weeks ago and I can’t go back.”

He weighed the repercussions of joking that he shouldn’t want to go back to that shithole anyways, but the reaction could go either way. Better to play it safe. “We can take care of you here, kid. There are quite a few mages here who didn’t want to join the war. You just can’t be threatening people.”

Cricket shook his head. “You have to protect me. They- They'll make me Tranquil.”

“Nah. That doesn’t happen in there. You’d have to be real dangerous and, despite all this,” Varric gestured between Cricket and Noelle, “I don’t think you really are.”

“I killed three people,” he croaked.

“Holy shit.” Noelle physically clapped her hand over mouth in an attempt to stop additional words from pouring out.

“I didn’t mean to! I was trying to get away and it just happened- there was an explosion of ice and I froze two people solid and I- I killed my adopted father with an ice shard through his eye.” Cricket sunk to the ground fully dissolved into tears. “I’m a monster-- but I can’t be made Tranquil. I’ve seen them,” he sobbed. “It’s terrifying. I can’t-- Please.”

“No one will make you Tranquil. You require training, not punishment.” Varric felt his eyebrows rocket towards his hairline at the elf’s sudden support. He wouldn’t call it empathy, but the tears and vulnerability had brought out a sort of pragmatic solidarity now that Noelle was no longer in danger. Honestly, she was probably only in the danger caused by being near an untrained, emotional mage. Varric was fairly certain the kid would not have killed her on purpose, even if they had brought guards or Templars to take him in.

“Can you help me?” He sniffed. “Can you protect me?”

“Ehh. I have a little pull with the higher ups. They might still lock you up, but they won’t make you Tranquil. The Herald has become a bit of a leader here and he’s a mage with pretty strong feelings about that kind of stuff.”

“Does he have more say than the Commander? Because I bet Cullen wouldn’t hesitate to use Tranquility.” Noelle glowered as she said his name. “Also Leliana and Cassandra threatened to torture me. They’d probably do it.”

“Whoa. I don’t know what books you were reading about us in your world, but you’ve got all three of them wrong. Everything personal aside, they all took up this cause because they wanted a peaceful end to war. Hole in the sky, or no, they won’t take actions that will further enmity between these groups and cause more chaos. Besides, he’s just a kid. They wouldn’t do that to a kid.”

He could see the surprise and conflict on her face. Good. Everything he’d seen from her so far told her that she was stubbornly holding to some idea of them all that was two dimensional and outdated. Even the way she seemed to idolize him made him uncomfortable. He liked a good fan as much as the next author, but this was different.

He turned back to Cricket. “I’ll take you to Trevelyan first. He’s a reasonable man. He’ll appreciate that you came here instead of joining a war." He turned to lead the group back towards the town. "And I at least have enough pull that if the guards question us I can remind them how much money they owe me. Word of advice, kid. If you’re going to learn Wicked Grace, learn it well and never play with a dwarf.”

\--

Solas pulled Noelle aside as they entered Haven, leaving Varric to escort Cricket to the Herald. His hand rested gently on her arm as they came to a stop. Earlier, when he had yanked her behind him, was the first time he had allowed himself to touch her since he had returned. His time away had been enough to clear his head and determine that he needed to be more cautious about his interactions with her. He had liked making contact with her prior to leaving. It amplified everything somehow, though he knew it was all in his head. He eventually determined not to risk touching her anymore and when he had grabbed her it was on instinct.

It was a mistake.

Now he was doing it again and he didn’t want to break contact. She could have died. His only tether to the type of connection he craved could have been taken away from him. He examined her face closely. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little… overwhelmed.”

Solas nodded, but he could feel that it was more than that. There was a conflicting swirl of emotions whirling through her right now. Undoubtedly she had no clue what she was feeling and even he was having a difficult time unravelling them. He was out of practice.

“Thank you.” She looked up at him with earnest appreciation. “It seems I was wrong when I said I didn’t need your protection. You really came through for me by showing up when you did.”

“I am pleased,” he responded, moderating his tone and then falling into contemplative silence. Nothing about his feelings were rational or helpful. It was more than friendship or kinship. There was a pull there because she was the only one since waking and it was a distraction. In truth there were others, and he had locked them away. They needed to be his focus.

He dropped his hand from her arm. “I should apologize. Earlier, when I scolded you about the Templar, I must admit that I have no real reason to distrust the man. My feelings on his Order were not truly at the forefront of my protest. It is-” He stopped, formulating his next sentence carefully. “Because of our unique connection, I have felt jealous and possessive over you and your attentions. It is unfair and unreasonable, and it will cease. I should take my leave.” 

She reached out, catching his wrist in her hand and Solas was keenly aware that this was the first time she had ever initiated a contact between them. He almost responded. Almost moved back towards her and gathered her into his arms. He would tuck her under his chin, smelling the way the Fade wafted off her and feeling the emotions from both of holding each other and sharing sensations of warmth, comfort and protection.

How he wanted that feeling back.

Instead he stilled and waited, listening to her feelings as much as her words. “Solas, I appreciate your apology and I’d like us to try and be friends. You honestly drive me up the wall but I know I’m not always the easiest person to get along with either. And I know it’s not the same but both of us are cut off from the people who are important to us so we have that in common.” She paused awkwardly. “So, that’s what I wanted to say. I hope we can be friends.”

“I’d like that, lethallan.” He couldn’t help himself. He was compelled to say it. He barely found the strength but he managed to pull himself away. He needed to find some space to think.

\--

“It’s time for a talk.” 

Noelle jumped, stumbling over her feet in the process. Where the hell did Leliana come from?

“This way.”

“We can talk here,” Noelle hazarded, her voice shaking. At least here there were people around.

“If you think a single one of them would lift a finger if I killed you, you’d be mistaken.” 

Bloody mind reader.

“Holy mother of balls, Leliana. What happened to you?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized what was happening. All the stress of the day had certainly killed whatever filter she’d had earlier in the day. 

The spymaster’s face shifted as lips pressed together firmly. Confusion, or maybe irritation. “I’m here to talk about you, not me.”

“Fine. Go ahead.” Noelle folded her arms across her chest, attempting stoicism or disinterest. Probably it wasn’t successful.

“It has been noted that in your short time here you have formed relationships with several individuals who are close to the centre of this operation, have maneuvered a lowling into giving you regular access to locations that contain weaponry, have elicited escorts outside the city such that you were not questioned when you left on your own and now returned with a possible accomplice.”

Well, fuck. Did she have plausible deniability for any of those things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! First, for all the votes that haven't really seen results yet, they haven't been forgotten! Sometimes the pace of the story doesn't allow for me to get to everything! There might be a chapter soon that only asks worldbuilding questions to give me a chance to catch up! (Or *gasp* a chapter with _no_ questions?)
> 
> Second, I wanted to say thanks to everyone who has been commenting and sending love and appreciation. Esp last week when I demanded it and y'all came through! XD
> 
>    
> Noelle needs to talk to someone about how she’s feeling, being away from home. Who does she confide in?  
> \- **Solas** Winner! (48%)  
>  \- Varric  
> \- Jim  
> \- Surgeon
> 
> What happens to Cricket?  
> \- Put in jail until safety can be ascertained  
> \- **Paired with Talia to learn healing magic** Winner! (65%)  
>  \- Decides he doesn’t trust the Inquisition and disappears
> 
> Character: What is Noelle’s biggest (non-existential) fear?  
> \- **Heights - that’s why she started rock climbing** Winner! (42%)  
>  \- Spiders - of course. Classic.  
> \- Fire - there will be some bad times


	15. A Sense of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Sorry this is a) up so late and b) a bit on the short side. I'm sick and while I totally thought laying around in bed would just give me more time to write, it turns out that being creative takes mental energy I didn't have a whole ton of this week. So I did my best with a smaller amount and here's what you get :P
> 
> Noelle needs to talk to someone about how she’s feeling, being away from home. Who does she confide in?  
> \- **Solas** Winner! (48%)  
>  \- Varric  
> \- Jim  
> \- Surgeon
> 
> What happens to Cricket?  
> \- Put in jail until safety can be ascertained  
> \- **Paired with Talia to learn healing magic** Winner! (65%)  
>  \- Decides he doesn’t trust the Inquisition and disappears
> 
> Character: What is Noelle’s biggest (non-existential) fear?  
> \- **Heights - that’s why she started rock climbing** Winner! (42%)  
>  \- Spiders - of course. Classic.  
> \- Fire - there will be some bad times

“Are you throwing me back in a cell then? Assigning a guard to me? What is the point of this conversation?”

“What do you think we should do with you?”

Noelle straightened a little taller. She had faced down a demon and a mage threatening to kill her. She could stand up to Leliana, no matter how scary she had become.  _ Just remember how much she loves shoes and nugs.  _

“Is that how you became such a great bard and player of the Game? By answering questions with more questions? Clever.”

“You would be a good bard.”

“I’m not a spy, Leliana. Christ on a fucking biscuit, you’re the one who decided to believe me because of the things I knew!”

“I did not say you were. I said you would make a good one. You have a talent for making friends and you speak with a frankness that belies the secrets you keep. It also helps that you are pretty, but not beautiful enough intimidate.”

Noelle had not felt this surprised by a conversational turn since arriving in Thedas, having regularly put herself on guard for any and all strangeness. It took her multiple false starts before she could respond. “You think I would be a good spy because I’m friendly and sort of pretty?”

Leliana smiled and it was calculated where it should have been warm. “I did not say friendly. What I have observed is that, despite your highly suspicious arrival in Haven and your strange backstory, your actions have largely gone unnoticed while you have gained the trust of many. You have not only elicited friendship from Varric but you have convinced him to bring a stranger straight to the only person with the power to close rifts. Solas has taken it upon himself to be your personal bodyguard. Surgeon has staunchly defended you against any criticism and declared she cannot do without your assistance. A scout has risked his position for you. And you have managed to obtain private audiences with both the Commander and his second-in-command. That is why you would make a good spy.”

Noelle did not like the way ‘private audiences’ with Cullen and Rylen were lumped together as though they were at all the same but it would have to be addressed later. “I didn’t do any of those things on purpose. Mostly I was trying to figure out how to survive in this place, and just doing my job.”

“A healer would certainly be an unconventional spy, but the position has advantages. In any case, consider it.” She did not bother to wait for a follow up response and left Noelle to stammer into the empty space in front of her.

\--

“We need to get rid of it.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes. “It isn’t even magical as far as Solas can tell. Why are you so frightened?”

“I am not frightened, Herald. I am cautious and advising the course of action most likely to keep the people of Haven and this organization safe.” 

He was aware of his intense posture, leaning forward over the Commander’s desk with his hands braced on the edge, gripping. His defenses always went up around the former Templar, though it was becoming more unfair as time went on and the man continued to treat him with respect and occasionally even kindness. He pulled back, shaking out the stiffness in his arms and watched the Commander’s eyes dart behind him and narrow.

He turned.

“Sorry.” The healer, whose name he really should remember considering he’d had multiple conversations with her now, stood just inside the entrance to the command tent. “I came to remove your cast,” she offered, looking at the Commander.

“There was no guard stationed outside,” she added. “I didn’t know I was interrupting.”

“The guard was sent away so our conversation would not be overheard,” the Commander grumbled.

“Seems a bit silly. Anyone could eavesdrop if no one is there to keep them away.”

“Most people are more respectful.”

Maxwell laughed. “He’s only telling you a partial truth. What he means is that we wanted minimize the number of people around in case we started yelling at each other. Nothing interesting to be learned but interpersonal drama.”

She nodded awkwardly. “I’ll come back.”

“No, no. Go ahead. I can’t look at that thing on his face anymore.”

“Herald, we really should finish our conversation.”

“I didn’t say it was over.”

The Commander shifted his eyes pointedly to the healer, who just as pointedly ignored him and sat a satchel on the desk that she began rummaging through for the tools she needed. That the man was less trusting than their spymaster was rather amusing. 

“I’m sure she knows everything we do already. Solas is practically her shadow whenever he is not otherwise made busy. He’s likely told her everything he knows.”

“About the weird object? Not really,” she commented as she tilted the Commander’s head back. “Err- not that I overheard enough to know that’s what you were talking about. Close your eyes.”

The Commander let out a low growl of disapproval. Maxwell watched, fascinated, as she poured a liquid substance over the cast.

“He wants to get rid of it.”

“I thought it wasn’t dangerous?”

“Not that we can tell.”

“It’s still a large unknown. We aren’t even certain what it is made out of or what the symbols represent. They could be some new sort of rune that we cannot detect.” The Commander was scrunching his face as the healer pulled gently at the cast with small tools and it eventually came off in one stiff piece.

“Neat,” she said. “Can I see it?”

“No,” came the Commanders sharp response.

“Actually, that might not be a bad idea.”

“It is a very bad idea. The only good idea is getting it far away from this village.”

“She’s from a world on the other side of the Fade. She has knowledge we obviously don’t. Maybe she can help identify it.”

“I’m happy to help,” she chirped as she gently washed the remaining sticky substance from the Commander’s face. Maxwell felt emboldened to go ahead. It was hard to take the Commander seriously when he was having his face cleaned like a child.

“I’ll take you there directly. Sorry, I forget your name.”

“Noelle.” She thrust a hand absentmindedly at him as she continued to dab away and he shook it merrily, despite the Commander’s scowl. The man was too easy to antagonize anyways.

\--

He wasn’t sure why he kept returning to this item. Was this not the definition of madness? To attempt the same thing again and again and expect different results? Regardless, this was the third time he had penetrated this object with his magic, searching for a sign of anything that would explain what it was.

He already had an inkling of where it came from. At one point, it had held a hint of the Fade deep inside it but without consciousness that connection had faded quickly. He wanted to be sure before he spoke to her of its existence. 

No. That was a lie. It would not do to begin lying to himself. He had not told her because he was frightened that if it was from her world, it might mean there was a way for her to return, and then he’d be truly alone again. The idea that he merely wanted to be sure was an excuse. He could be sure by asking her and it would either give her hope, or be a mere curiosity she had no information on.

He thought he heard her laugh and dismissed it as his own wistful imagination until he felt the unmistakable wash of her amusement. She was nearby. He immediately abandoned his exploration of the object in favour of seeing what she was up to, when Trevelyan walked through his door with her just behind him. Knocking was evidently not a thing in the circles.

“Solas, where is the artifact? I want to see if our strange visitor knows anything about it.”

Solas gestured silently to the table behind him. The moment had come whether he was ready or not.

“This?” Noelle reached out and Solas watched as Trevelyan grabbed for her hand to stop her touching it and missed. No one had made contact with it yet; they had wrapped it in cloth for transport back to Haven. She picked it up and Solas felt his heart stutter, but nothing happened.

Likely not an unknown magic then.

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” She was asking the Herald but Solas felt the shame deep in his gut. “This is so obviously not from Thedas and you didn’t think to ask the person not from Thedas until she literally asks if she can see it?”

“I kind of figured Solas would have asked you.”

She turned to look at him, a mixture of confusion, hurt and irritation accompanying her gaze. He shrugged. He had no better response.

“It’s a controller,” she said eventually. “It’s not dangerous. It’s basically garbage now that it’s here.”

“That sounds ominous.” Trevelyan laughed like it was a joke but there was discomfort in his face.

“Hardly. It’s for games. It doesn’t control people or anything.”

Solas finally approached. “What do these symbols mean?” He gently took the controller from her hands, pointing to the symbols he was referencing. He wanted to feel this strange substance against his skin. It was cool and solid.

“They don’t mean anything. It’s just a square, a circle, a triangle. They’re for reference so you know which button to press.” She reached over and depressed one of the raised symbols to illustrate her point. “It controls… a toy, for lack of a better word.”

Trevelyan snorted. “Well, that was a surprisingly dull end to this mystery. I’m going to go find Varric. I owe him a beer, apparently.” 

An uncomfortable quiet settled around them once they were alone. Solas could feel the warring emotions inside of her and waited for Noelle to choose her words.

“Where did you find this again?”

“In the Hinterlands, near the Crossroads.”

More silence.

“So that means there have been more connections between my world and yours?”

“It would seem so.”

“Do- Do you think there might be a way for me to go home through one of these connections?”

It was the question he had been dreading. It shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t one of his people, not really. And yet he did not see how he could send her away and go back to how things were during the year before. “I’m not sure.”

She nodded slowly, lowering herself into a chair. He couldn’t help but notice that she was alone in his cabin, something she’d been steadfastly avoiding until now, and he wasn’t sure if it was a sign of increased trust or of how distracted she currently was. “I miss my family,” she whispered.

He stood stiffly, watching as she buried her face in her hands. 

“I’ve been trying really hard to pretend like everything is okay but then it wells up when I’m not expecting it. Apparently repressing your feelings isn’t the solution to every problem. Who knew?” She huffed a tear-filled laugh at herself and Solas closed himself off to her feelings. They were too close to his own and it would quickly become impossible to keep control of himself if he didn’t.

“Posturing is often necessary, but not with me.”

She peered at him with watery eyes. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“It is difficult to get used to a world you don’t recognize.”

She nodded. “It’s kind of like… I moved halfway across the world before I came here, you know? And I thought I knew what I was in for. I’d read about it. My partner was from there. But I got there and I was so far away from family and friends and it was hard but at least I had that one person. My fiancé helped to ground me and carry me through the worst of the culture shock. After he left me over someone else, I had to do it by myself and it was so much harder. I was still determined to push through and be strong but I always knew that home was there for me if I needed. Coming here, I thought that experience would help me know how to cope but it’s so much harder. It’s all that but with no fiancé, no way home, and it wasn’t even my choice.”

“You feel alone.”

“Completely and utterly.”

“You are not alone, lethallan. I am here.” He reached across the table and gently lay his hand overtop of hers. 

She said something in response but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, click on the links in the questions to vote but let me know your thoughts about the chapter, the questions, or the whole fic! Chatting with y'all is one of my favourite parts of this whole thing!
> 
> Is Noelle interested in Leliana's offer?  
> \- **No, she heals people. She doesn’t manipulate and hurt them.** Winner! (64%)  
>  \- Yes, you’d have to be crazy not to take spy training from Leliana.
> 
> Do Noelle and Rylen continue seeing each other for now?  
> \- Yes, she needs comfort and he’s happy to be that  
> \- **No, her freak out made her realize she’s not ready** Winner! (65%)
> 
> We have established that Leliana loves the HoF who is married to King Alistair. How does Elissa feel?  
> \- She loves Alistair. Leliana’s feelings are unrequited.  
> \- She loves Leliana. She and Alistair are friends working together for a better Ferelden.  
> \- **She loves them both. It’s a big complicated mess with loads of drama.** Winner! (39%)


	16. A Drink (or Four)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Noelle interested in Leliana's offer?  
> \- **No, she heals people. She doesn’t manipulate and hurt them.** Winner! (64%)  
>  \- Yes, you’d have to be crazy not to take spy training from Leliana.
> 
> Do Noelle and Rylen continue seeing each other for now?  
> \- Yes, she needs comfort and he’s happy to be that  
> \- **No, her freak out made her realize she’s not ready** Winner! (65%)
> 
> We have established that Leliana loves the HoF who is married to King Alistair. How does Elissa feel?  
> \- She loves Alistair. Leliana’s feelings are unrequited.  
> \- She loves Leliana. She and Alistair are friends working together for a better Ferelden.  
> \- **She loves them both. It’s a big complicated mess with loads of drama.** Winner! (39%)
> 
> Also look at this beautiful fan art that CleverPigeon made for this fic! 

“It’s a sprain but it’s not so bad. I’m afraid you won’t be holding a sword for a few weeks at minimum. We can give you a brace if you’re not certain you can take proper care of it.”

The woman nodded. “I think I can handle it. Is there anything else I can do to speed up the healing? I’m going to fall behind my contingent. I’ll never get to be squad leader.”

“You’ll never get to be squad leader if you permanently damage your wrist. You could lose range of motion, have permanent pain. The only thing you can do is keep packing it with snow to reduce swelling.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Noelle grimaced. She never liked being ‘ma’amed’ but it tended to come with the role of bossy doctor-type and evidently that transferred to Thedas too.

She looked over at to the far end of the clinic warily. The boy, Cricket, was there with Talia. The Herald had brought him by earlier, asserting that he would make a good healer. In truth, he had no special talent for it but Maxwell and Varric both thought it would be best not to teach the emotional boy more powerful offensive magic until he was comfortable in Haven and with its people. He was skittery, looking about for threats constantly. It wasn’t surprising, one doesn’t simply get over being on the run in a day or two.

She could tell neither Talia or Surgeon were impressed with the arrangement, but neither was going to turn away a child either.

“Noelle?

"Noelle?

"Are you in the Fade, Noelle?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry, I was distracted. What’s up?”

Henrietta blinked at her before looking up to the top of the canvas clinic in confusion. 

“No. It means ‘what is going on?’.” 

“Oh. A _patient_ is here to see you.” She could tell just from the way the word was said that it wasn't any patient.

Noelle turned, scanning her way up the tall shadow to a familiar face. She should have been expecting him. “Hello Rylen,” she mumbled shyly.

She led him to a cot at the far end, as far away from curious ears as she could get, and began silently unbuckling his armour while he watched. She could feel the heat of embarrassment on her cheeks and she pressed her lips together as she tried to pull the tension to somewhere else in her face.

“Noelle, you’ve been avoiding me.”

She stopped, holding his cuirass awkwardly. “Is that why you’re here? I thought you wanted me to work on your shoulder.”

“Can’t it be both?”

Sighing, Noelle placed the cuirass on the ground next to the rest of his armour. “I’m sorry. I have been avoiding you. What happened was embarrassing.”

“Was it? You must be easily embarrassed.”

Her cheeks were on fire now. Yes. Apparently she was easily embarrassed. She focused in on his shoulder instead of responding.

“You don’t have to hide from me, lass.”

She shook her head. “Do you mean that literally or metaphorically?”

“Either.”

“I wasn’t hiding, exactly. I just didn’t know what I wanted to say.”

He watched her hands for a few moments before responding. “I’ve never been a good one for words myself. I can say that I like you and want to spend more time with you.”

She dropped his arm, moving to sit beside him on the cot. “I like you too.” She did. She could feel her heart fluttering in her chest from his simple statement. “But I don’t think I’m ready for anything more than friendship right now. The other day made me realize that. I was going to marry someone a month ago and…”  _ Oh my god, I made Rylen my rebound. I am such a shit. _

“Okay. That’s understandable.”

“What? Just like that?”

His face twisted in amusement. “Of course. Did you expect me to chase you? I don’t play those kinds of games, lass.”

“No. No, no. That’s not what I meant, or what I want. It just took me days to end things with my fiancé and this feels too easy in comparison.”

“We were hardly planning to be married.”

“Right.” She was half disappointed and half relieved that it was over so easily and she chewed her bottom lip absentmindedly before getting  up to continue working on Rylen’s shoulder. “We  _ are _ still friends though, right?”

“Sure. Although I might still look at your very appealing bottom on occasion. It’ll be a difficult habit to break.”

Noelle scrunched her in confusion and twisted herself around to try and look at her ass. “My ass? It’s nothing special.”

“Must depend on the angle you’re viewing it from.”

“Uh huh,” she responded drily. Inside she was pleased, the joke probably meant they would be okay. “Your shoulder is doing better. I think you can start sparring again but I want you to wear armour that braces it to stop it from dislocating again. See what Harritt can do for you. No sparring without something appropriate, okay?”

“Yes, Lady Healer.” 

He was teasing her again. That was good. She watched him leave with a tiny smile tugging at the edge of her lips and she might have been watching his ass too.

Just a little.

It was a hard habit to break.

\--

Varric watched her drain another mug. She wasn’t doing as well as she claimed to be. “Something’s eating at you.”

Noelle rolled her eyes. “No kidding.”

“Here now,” Varric gestured towards her with his glass. “I bought you a drink. Now you open up and talk to me. That’s how it works.”

“I had my life threatened, Varric. Today I spent the whole day working beside the person who did it. I know he’s just a kid and he didn’t really want to kill me but it was still fucking scary and I’m not sure how I’m just supposed to get over that.”

“People try to kill me regularly. You get used to it.”

“Well, I’m not from around here. People don’t threaten each other regularly where I’m from. This was my first.”

“Remind me to never take you to Orzammar.”

“Will do.” She waved for another drink. She stared into the liquid that arrived. “I hate this place.”

“Haven or Thedas?”

“Both.”

“You know, there’s a saying us dwarves have. You have to shape the stone if you’re going to live in it.”

He almost laughed at the expression she gave. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not huge on aphorisms either. This one has merit though. If you don’t like it here, change it. I don’t like living in a world where giant holes in the sky threaten to destroy everything so I’m trying to fix it. I’ll complain about it too, but I’m not just going to whine and consider my job done.”

“I hate you too.”

“I also tend to feel that way about people who tell me the truth.”

She barked a single dry laugh. “And I hate that you know me so well so quickly. I must be a real easy read.”

“An easy read can still be a good book.” He grinned. “That’s not an aphorism, by the way. I just made it up.”

“You know, encouraging everyone to be the change they want to see can be dangerous. One could argue Anders was the change he wanted to see.” 

Varric grimaced. Girl had a point. “I like to think I got better over the past four years at picking out the ones who can bring change without causing an explosion. People like Cullen and Aveline. They were tireless in rebuilding Kirkwall after what happened.”

“Cullen did?”

“I told you that you had them wrong. Cullen could have focused on chasing down mages and propping up the Templars but instead he turned his remaining men towards rebuilding and helping people. He’s not perfect and has his prejudices to overcome but he’s a good man underneath all that.”

“Sure, Varric. I’m sure he’s a great guy underneath all the bigotry.”

“He’s working on it. He even worked with Merrill to improve conditions in the alienage.”

“Did he know she’s a blood mage?”

Varric chuckled. She sure was determined to hate Curly. “Unlikely, but he knew she was an apostate.”

She made a humming noise and drained her drink. Number four. He should really stop her. He was pretty sure The Singing Maiden watered down their drinks but it would still catch up with her pretty quick.  

“You-” She pointed her finger at him. Yup. It was catching up. “You should get in touch with her. Or anyone from your old crew. We need all the help we can get over here.”

“Yeah... I know, but Kirkwall needs them too.” 

\--

Leliana pushed the papers away from her with distaste. She used to enjoy all this, but tonight she just felt tired. The energy of constantly seeking out traitors, it was too much right now. She looked at the edge of her desk. A letter there was addressed simply to ‘Leliana’ and she’d put it aside until she was done her work. 

She unfurled it with a heavy sigh, trying to shake loose all the pieces of her work that weren’t supposed to bother her. 

“Leliana?”

She lowered the letter. It was always work. Pleasure was for the less talented.

“Noelle Williams. You have come to discuss my proposition?”

She laughed a little too loud. “Obviously.” Was she drunk? “I’d hardly be making a social visit.”

“Perhaps we should have this discussion in the morning?”

“Not. Necessary. It doesn’t take that long to tell someone ‘no’.”

Leliana’s eyebrows lifted. The response was surprising. It wasn’t common for people to turn her down. “I see. You believe you have all the skills you need to play this game, then?”

“I don’t want to play this game. I’m a doctor. I make people feel  _ better. _ ”

“Spies make people feel better by getting to the truth.”

An accusatory finger was thrust in her direction. “No. I am going to shape stones like Varric said. You just want me to talk about them.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re speaking about and you are too inebriated for this conversation to continue. I respect your decision but if you wish to discuss it further it will be at another time.”

“Right,” she said, hesitantly turning to leave. “Good. Good night, Leliana.”

Returning to her letter, Leliana pursed her lips. This was Alistair’s writing, not Elissa’s.

Unexpected. Her heart skipped. If Alistair was writing, it wasn’t good.

_ Leliana, _

_ I know we haven’t spoken more than a couple times since the wedding but I have not heard from Elissa in months. I assume she told you of her current task. She had been writing more frequently prior to this and I am concerned. Please inform me if you have heard from her. If you have not, I would call on your considerable skills to discover her safety. _

_ Please, Leliana. I love her too. _

_ King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden _

She had heard nothing from Elissa since she left. Elissa wouldn’t write her every couple weeks while she was on the hunt like this. They weren’t like that. She didn’t fret like Alistair did. She didn’t need Elissa to update her every hour. She did not worry.

Andraste guide her, she was worried now. 

\--

He was a fool. Only a fool would decide to interrupt his slow fall into the Fade by reaching out for her. He was supposed to be distancing himself. She was dangerous, but he was curious.

He was definitely a fool because, when he discovered she was drunk, he got out of bed to go find her, driven by a need to protect her. She had proven herself every bit as vulnerable as he predicted when he discovered she was from another world. She had no magic. She couldn’t fight. She didn’t even understand the etiquette or customs he had spent the last year studying when he had opportunity. 

She only had him.

He threw on his clothing and left to find her. She was close. He could tell.

He could hear her laughing.

She leaned against a wall speaking with a blonde woman who looked slightly familiar. She smiled when she saw him. “Solas is here!”

“Who is- Oh!” The blonde looked at him with wide eyes. “He is really close to the Herald,” she whispered.

“I also have an elf’s sense of hearing. Whispers are an ineffective way to communicate information without my knowledge.”

The blonde squeaked and Noelle was laughed even harder. Even drunk, her amusement was infectious and he found it difficult to keep a stern face.

“I was worried about you, lethallan. It is not safe to be intoxicated alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’m with Henrietta.” 

The woman’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ at being named. “Oh no. I just showed up. I didn’t- I wasn’t-”

“It has been my assumption that Varric was the cause of this state of affairs.” He assured the quaking blonde. 

Noelle stood a little straighter, the drunken giggle completely gone. “No. Fuck no. I am an adult Solas. I can drink and if Varric buys them for me, that’s fine.”

Solas sighed. He didn’t like this turn of events at all. “Excuse us, Henrietta.” He took Noelle’s arm, sending her a pulse of his concern so she would let him guide her away. Even with those efforts, he was a little surprised when she did.

“It concerns me that you have gotten drunk on purpose, lethallan.”

“I had a bad day. It was… stressful.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Decidedly, no. You have to actually buy me the drinks if you want me to talk.”

“I won’t be purchasing you any more alcohol.”

She scrunched her face in distaste. “I wouldn’t want more anyway. I’m proper sloshed. Any more and I’ll just be sick.”

“Then I’ll take you back to your bed and leave you be.”

“Please don’t,” she murmured. “I don’t want to talk but I don’t want to be alone either.”

“What would you have of me?”

“Just stay with me, or let me come with you. I’ll just get melancholy alone with all this alcohol in my system.”

“Certainly. Although I believe that ship may have already sailed, so to speak.”

“I am not melancholy. I am belligerently on the cusp.”

“Alright. Would you like to go back to my cabin? It is quieter there.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That is a very suspicious suggestion, Solas. You have been trying to get me alone in your space since we met.”

“I have. I enjoy spending time with you and we can speak more freely in private. You might recall that you were alone in my space the other day. You are in no danger from me.”

She followed as he began walking towards his cabin, linking arms with him in a casual display of affection he was surprised to receive from her. “Do you have anyone in your life that you love? A wife, maybe?”

“I do not." He considered asking why her mind was turned in that direction before recalling her desire not to speak. Hopefully it was unrelated to that Templar, although him making her said might actually indicate the best result. The best result for her, of course.

“Probably good,” she drawled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t think I could fight a hole in the sky if I had a wife somewhere far away. I’d be worried all the time. Demons are really scary.”

“Their danger should not be underestimated,” he agreed. “Although I am not certain I would say that I fear them.”

“I thought mages were supposed to fear demons because of abominations and stuff.”

Solas smiled internally. She had not become more eloquent after imbibing the tavern’s unfortunately swill. “There is a risk for weaker mages, yes.”

She snorted. “The sneaky brag. I like it.”

“I am not bragging, lethallan. I am making a statement of fact. That I am not among those who are vulnerable to demons did not factor into my comment.”

“Uh huh.” The teasing smirk she shot him was infectious as he felt the totality of her amusement. Even if it was at his expense, he wanted to revel in that feeling of someone enjoying his company and his conversation. It had been so long since he’d genuinely shared amusement with another.

He opened the door to his cabin and let her walk through ahead of him. “You might be interested be interested to know that my name means ‘pride’ in Elvhen.”

The twinkling in her eyes was worth the confession. “It does  _ not _ ,” she gasped as she sat on his bed.

He responded only with a look that affirmed his statement.

“Would you teach me?”

“You wish to learn Elvhen?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I have never met a shemlen who was interested in learning the language beyond a few phrases to aid in trading with the Dalish.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said softly.

It took him a moment, a review of his previous statement, to realize that he’d lumped her in with the other shemlen. Strange, since he hadn’t thought of her that way since he discovered her connection to the Fade. It was stranger still that he hadn’t been thinking of her that way all along.

“I apologize, lethallan.” He stood awkwardly for a moment. He was not used to apologizing, although he seemed to do so more frequently with her. “If we are to keep each other company then I will make us tea.”

By the time the water had boiled, Noelle was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Varric reach out to former DA2 companions on behalf of the Inquisition? (This is explicitly a question about bringing a DA2 companion into the story.)  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (78%)  
>  \- No
> 
> When the Herald returns from Val Royeaux, who comes with him to the clinic?  
> \- Vivienne  
> \- **Sera** Winner! (54%)
> 
> Does Noelle follow up on learning Elvhen from Solas?  
> \- **Yes! Who wouldn’t want to learn the language?** Winner! (79%)  
>  \- Yes. But Solas doesn’t want to teach her.  
> \- Nah. It was a drunken impulse and she has many other duties.
> 
> This is also your last week to submit suggestions for Varric's nickname for Noelle. Voting will happen next week! As always, vote through the links and chat about votes or the chapter in the comments below! 
> 
> Also, heads up that I will be taking a week off next week and back the Wednesday after next. Voting will close on Saturday as usual.


	17. A Major Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it been two weeks already? I almost didn't even get this done today! Thanks for all your patience, peeps! Stress, anxiety and depression are killer on the creative juices. (Not to worry, I'm okay. It's all very manageable but just a bit distracting from the whole writing endeavour.)
> 
> Does Varric reach out to former DA2 companions on behalf of the Inquisition?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (78%)  
>  \- No
> 
> When the Herald returns from Val Royeaux, who comes with him to the clinic?  
> \- Vivienne  
> \- **Sera** Winner! (54%)
> 
> Does Noelle follow up on learning Elvhen from Solas?  
> \- **Yes! Who wouldn’t want to learn the language?** Winner! (79%)  
>  \- Yes. But Solas doesn’t want to teach her.  
> \- Nah. It was a drunken impulse and she has many other duties.

Noelle woke with a pounding headache, hair plastered to her face, and sour-sweet taste of a hangover in her mouth.  _ Damn, that ale was awful. _ She looked around, slowly absorbing the fact that she had passed out in Solas’ cabin. Because, of course she had. Self-pity was a noxious drug in its own right.

Solas was nowhere to be seen. She’d apparently chased him out of his own home, likely with drunken snoring. 

She jerkily pushed herself upright, waiting for the increase in pain that was going to shoot through her head as soon as it realized it had changed position. She pressed down on her temples, trying to distract from the sensation. Or maybe she was just trying to push her exploding brain back in?

Stumbling to the table, she found it topped with a note and a cup of something viscous and unpleasant looking.

_ Lethallan, _

_ I have left early this morning to accompany the Herald to Val Royeaux. I regret leaving while you struggle. Please make whatever use of this cabin that you would while I am gone.  _

_ Drink the tonic. It will help. _

_ Solas _

Noelle looked back at the cup, lips curled in distaste. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered to herself before slamming the whole thing back in one disgusting gulp. 

She looked around again. She could perhaps stay here while Solas was away. It would be nice to get a full night’s sleep on a regular basis without the noise of her various bunkmates, none of whom had shown any interest in her. She could hardly blame them, they were training for war with demons and she would be safe inside the village walls while they were out in the world fighting.

Still, she was definitely selfish enough to take Solas up on his offer.

Her eyes fell on the controller, now relegated to a corner shelf.  _ Strange that he still has it _ , she mused, picking it up and turning it in her hands. She huffed a short laugh to herself.  _ I am in a video game.  _

The moment initiated a strange sense of purpose. She was in a video game world and she was there without the limitations of binary quest choices and dialogue trees. She could do anything she wanted and she was choosing to get drunk and mope. If she was playing, she would never be this indecisive or lost.

It was time to take charge of her situation. It was time to shape the stone.

Noelle in Thedas. Main quest: Find a way home. Side quests: Anything to leave the world better than when you entered it.

\--

Surgeon could feel the temperature in the air climbing as Cricket grew more exasperated. The thought had been solid: Put him somewhere to learn useful skills that won’t hurt anyone until he trusts us. Unfortunately, any trust was eroding rather than building as Talia and Surgeon continued to follow orders and forbid him from using any offensive magic. Who would give an order to change tactics with Lady Pentaghast and the Herald gone?

It was unlikely the Spymaster would sign off. Perhaps the Commander? But then, he used to be a Templar so perhaps not. Even asking was risky, as comparing the aptitude and skills between both mages might lead to questions that Surgeon did not want Talia to answer. Currently, it was only the two of them in this village who knew Talia’s secret and Surgeon would do almost anything to keep it that way.

Talia jumped when he pounded his fist on the table. “I can’t do it! Why don’t you just give up on me already?”

Talia cast a worrying look at Surgeon, who pursed her lips before hissing back. “This is a place of healing. You will keep your voice and temper under control.”

“Cricket?” Noelle chirped. “Could you freeze this compress for me?”

Surgeon squinted at the woman, eyes darting to her ice rune inscribed chest that was still very much in working order. The boy smiled though, easily flooding the compress with ice crystals and handing the chilled item back to her. 

“Can she just do that? What if someone finds out?” Talia was whispering, tugging softly on Surgeon’s clothes. Sadly, she had no answer beyond a shrug. She certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring the whole thing to light.

“I’m sorry I threatened to kill you,” the boy blurted. Everyone froze and turned to look at him. Surgeon looked at Noelle, who was just as shocked.

“Oh. Right. Sure.”

Not the most reassuring acceptance but Cricket nodded once and returned to practising. “Think we could foist him off on her?” Surgeon murmured quietly.

She got a light whack on the shoulder for it. Talia’s heart had always been too soft for her own good.

\--

Cullen closed his eyes. Or, rather, he squeezed them shut very tightly and waited for the wave of nausea to pass. A wet drop splashed onto the pages on his desk. He stared for a moment before swiping his forehead with the back of a gloved hand. 

Wet.

He was sweating profusely. Still, he had a job to do. He only needed to concentrate until the feeling passed.

“Report for you, Ser.” A scout stood at the tent entrance, waiting on permission to enter.

Cullen reached out with his hand, realizing too late that it was visibly damp with his sweat. He retrieved the proffered paperwork without looking up, hoping he would appear to be concentrating rather than struggling and that whatever signs of his sickness were on his face would be hidden by shadow. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Ser? Are you alright? I could fetch someone.”

“Get out,” he snapped, the instinct and irritation taking over before he could stop them. Wonderful, he thought as the scout scurried out. Now there will be rumours.

He unfurled the report and squinted at it, the letters swimming before his eyes. How was it that each time he thought he was over the worst of it, it came roaring back the next day worse than ever? Maker help him, there were days that none of it seemed worth it and nights when he thought it might finally kill him.

Movement in the periphery of his vision immediately tightened his jaw. “I did not say I wanted anyone to attend me.”

“Good thing no one sent me then?” 

Cullen groaned. She was absolutely the last thing he needed. “I do not wish for your presence either.”

“It’s not like I want to be here,” Noelle retorted. “Just let me take a look at how you’re healing now that the cast is off and I'll be on my-” She froze, staring at Cullen and he realized that in raising his face to glare at her, he had exposed himself. “You look like shit.”

“I’m fine,” he barked, pushing himself upright and stepping around his desk to somehow enforce his authority and power. “I said I don’t wish to see you. Now lea- leave.” He wavered, dizzy.

“Holy crap.” Suddenly she was beside him, positioned under his arm and helping support him. Together they stumbled towards his cot and he collapsed onto it. His whole body felt cold and he realized the distant sound of clacking was his own teeth. A bowl, leftover from his breakfast, suddenly appeared in front of him and he looked up at her in confusion before an overwhelming urge to vomit rocked his body and he grabbed the dish and promptly deposited most of what he’d ingested that day into it. 

“Better?” She asked softly and he shook his head, putting the bowl down. The nausea had only been replaced by a sharp ache and a pounding headache. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. He could manage the pain if he could only calm his breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

When he opened his eyes, she was crouched in front of him and had apparently succeeded in pulling off the glove and vambrace on one arm, now working on the other. He hadn’t even realized she was doing it, too distracted by the pain. “You don’t have to do that,” he offered feebly, though he was too tired to really stop her.

“Uh huh.” 

She moved to his greaves, loosening and pulling them off before sliding off his boots. One, then the other. He just watched, his pounding head not quite able to process what was happening. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“You’re sick.”

“But you don’t like me,” he protested.

“I have to like you in order to not want you to suffer? Forgive me. I wasn’t aware I was doing it wrong.”

Suddenly she was up and in front of his face, undoing the clasps on his mantle and pulling it away. Cullen watched his hand twirl a strand of hair around his finger. “Please don’t do that,” she murmured, but her voice was soft and her hands gentle as she disentangled him from the mass of curls. 

Maker, what was wrong with him? He must be delirious. “I should get back to work,” he grumbled as he tried to pull his mantle back towards him. 

She barked a laugh and swatted at his hand. “Yes. I’m sure you’d get loads done in this state. You need to rest. You’re clearly unwell.” She was pulling at his cuirass now, deft fingers undoing the many buckles and clasps that held the front and back sections together.

“I don’t like being treated like a child,” he protested.

“Then perhaps you should stop acting like one.” Now fully divested of his armour, Cullen could feel how much he was coated in sweat everywhere as the cold wet of his shirt clung to his torso. Noelle wrinkled her nose. “We should get you out of this too.” 

That he definitely did not want and he somehow mustered to strength to push her hands away.

She sighed. “I’ve seen men without their shirts off. You don’t have to be shy.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I just- I’m fine.” In truth, he knew she was right but he couldn’t stomach being that vulnerable right now. As it was, he was barely cognisant of his own actions.

“I’m going to go get you some water. Why don’t you change while I’m gone?”

He nodded slowly, a strand of hair dropping onto his forehead and sticking to his damp skin. He pushed it back. He was distantly aware of how his physical unravelling mirrored his mental one. Still, he peeled his soaked shirt from his body as soon as she was gone and swiftly replaced it with a fresh one. He even imagined he might feel better for the switch. 

When she returned it was with a large tankard, filled with water rather than ale. “Don’t drink it too fast. You’ll simply lose it again.” He looked to where he’d left the vessel filled with his regurgitated breakfast and found it missing. She must have taken it. 

He felt suddenly embarrassed at the knowledge that she had cleared away his vomit for him.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you now?”

Cullen lowered the mug and swallowed, raising his eyes to meet her face. “No.”

“You should know that there are limits to my confidence. If I think you’re at imminent risk of harm, I have an obligation to tell someone. Hiding a serious illness from all the healers here probably falls in that category.”

“It’s not an illness,” he muttered. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Sure you do. That’s why I found you about to pass out at your desk.” She let out a slow exhale, as though she were marshalling her strength. “You should get some rest,” she eventually said. “If I find you like this again, I will be communicating with Surgeon about it.”

She fixed him with a firm gaze and Cullen said nothing, unsure what he could offer that would reassure her without revealing his secret; Unsure if he could even trust his own mind that nudged at him with thoughts that it would be easier if more people knew, easier if he could gather support. 

A heavy breath accompanied her movements to leave him. He let her, having no reason to ask her to stay. “Thank you,” he muttered as she stepped out but he was uncertain if she even heard it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding: Did Hawke side with the Mages or Templars?  
> \- **Mages** Winner! (90%)  
>  \- Templars
> 
> What is Talia's secret?  
> \- **She is a spirit healer (like Wynne/Anders)** Winner! (62%)  
>  \- She is a blood mage (easy to hide in a hospital)
> 
> Does Cullen tell Noelle that he stopped taking lyrium?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (74%)  
>  \- No
> 
> What does Varric nickname Noelle?  
> \- Freckles (What? Not all his nicknames are creative!)  
> \- **Biscuit (It's a weird thing to say in the midst of swearing. Plus she's both crunchy and sweet.)** Winner! (44%)  
>  \- Drifter (She wound up in Thedas without direction and she has shit aim.)  
> \- Curses (If she could communicate without swearing, he'd be impressed.)


	18. A Strange Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding: Did Hawke side with the Mages or Templars?  
> \- **Mages** Winner! (90%)  
>  \- Templars
> 
> What is Talia's secret?  
> \- **She is a spirit healer (like Wynne/Anders)** Winner! (62%)  
>  \- She is a blood mage (easy to hide in a hospital)
> 
> Does Cullen tell Noelle that he stopped taking lyrium?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (74%)  
>  \- No
> 
> What does Varric nickname Noelle?  
> \- Freckles (What? Not all his nicknames are creative!)  
> \- **Biscuit (It's a weird thing to say in the midst of swearing. Plus she's both crunchy and sweet.)** Winner! (44%)  
>  \- Drifter (She wound up in Thedas without direction and she has shit aim.)  
> \- Curses (If she could communicate without swearing, he'd be impressed.)

Somehow two weeks passed with little fanfare and little notice. Noelle did little things. Little things to make herself more comfortable in this big world in which she found herself. She started drawing again, spending less time in the tavern and more outside in the crisp sunshine with her art supplies. With Varric gone, the raucous noise of the tavern felt overwhelming instead of jovial and she felt herself drawn to quieter pursuits.

When her arms were tired she sketched Jim as he lay in the grass, bow resting on his chest. He blushed heavily and asked if he could keep it. Other times she sketched the scenery, the Chantry. She sketched Henrietta when requested. She never sketched memories from home.

She also took to heart what Varric had suggested about how she could make this a more positive place. She invited the elven boys, Leven and Sarrel, who delivered lunch every day to sit and eat with them instead of scurrying off to do more more work and return to clean up. The first few days were nerve wracking. The healers rolled their eyes, the patients stared skeptically and the boys were nervous. Eventually everyone grew more comfortable, especially Cricket who suddenly had two younger kids around during a meal to admire him and laugh at his boyish humour. It was a small thing, but it made her happy to see ‘servants’ being treated as coworkers and elves being treated as equals in this one tiny space.

She went to Adan one day, certain he would be open to working with her after he helped create a plaster at Surgeon’s request. He was not. “I don’t care,” he’d said when she explained she wanted to explore the antibiotic properties of different plants in Thedas.

“But we won’t always have magic healing around to cure infections,” she’d protested. “And healing potions do nothing for it. They just close the wound and trap whatever bacteria is there inside.”

“I’m not a healer. I don’t even want to be making healing potions in the first place, nevermind some fancy one you’ve dreamt up in your head.”

The idea stuck with him though, wiggling around in his head for a few days until the puzzle became too tempting and he came back to her with begrudging acceptance. “Don’t really understand this bacteria stuff you’re talking about but I’ve seen wounds that have been poured over with whisky and still get angry and cause fevers and death so I’ll work on it with you.”

“Alcohol is an antiseptic, not an antibiotic,” she pointed out before going back to square one and explaining bacteria and infections to a man who had only sort of figured out that humors were not an accurate way of diagnosing illness.

At least she never had to explain to anyone to wash their hands. Dirt and grime had ‘humor imbalancing properties’ long before she arrived to explain how it worked.

Still, she brought her ideas forward because she knew they could save lives. Her real joy was somehow, ridiculously, in saving joints and she smiled as she slowly ratcheted up a full slate of soldiers who came to her with the aches and pains they had been suffering through until now. It was an exponential growth; a couple recruits slinking in after Rylen recommended it and word spreading from there. Over the past week she had shifted from mostly doing regular clinic work to being ‘in demand’ for her particular skills. Surgeon was starting to threaten kicking her out to another tent and leaving the current clinic set up for the ‘real injuries’. 

And so time spun onwards until the day Noelle was startled to hear the Herald’s voice as he entered the clinic. It wasn’t that she’d forgot about him, precisely. It was more that he had been gone for long enough that she forgot he was practically the centre of the Inquisition. 

The clinic was gathered around a rather sizeable platter of food, healers and patients both, when he arrived. Nearly everyone jumped up as though they’d been caught slacking by their boss. Noelle and a blonde woman next to him rolled their eyes nearly in tandem then grinned at each other; an instant sense of camaraderie in their distaste for the show.

“Looks like you’re right feared by this lot,” the woman joked, plucking a chunk of dried meat from the platter and kicking back on an empty cot. 

“I think you can relax,” Trevelyan offered awkwardly. “I just need to see Talia.”

“Knees again?”

Noelle’s ears perked at the question, though she was most definitely not eavesdropping.

“He’s practically a hobbly old man,” the blonde woman mumbled through her full mouth. “Thought the Herald of Andraste would be all rippling muscles and flowing hair-like.”

“I have other good qualities, Sera.”

“Oi. Don’t you spout off about your magic bits again.” 

“I am a  _ very _ talented mage.” Noelle felt like she was watching a tennis match as they traded remarks back and forth while the whole clinic watched.

“You’re almost as bad as that elf.” 

Noelle did a double take, looking at the woman and the pointed ears peeking out from her ragged blonde bob. “Aren’t you an elf?”

Sera wrinkled her nose. “Not an elfy elf like that one. Got a stick up his butt about it, he does.”

Trevelyan laughed and everyone turned back towards him in surprise. “What? She’s not wrong.”

“Let’s take a look at your knees, Herald,” Talia interjected. There was a collective blushing as everyone turned back to their meal, pretending not to have been completely absorbed by the chatter between the Herald and his new companion. “Noelle? Could you join us?”

She jumped up a little too enthusiastically. Knees were her jam. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I can’t tell what’s wrong with them. I can flood them with healing magic but they just go right back again after a couple days.”

“Can you walk for me,” she asked, turning to the Herald.

She eventually had him laying on a cot and doing different exercises, informing her where he felt tired first and letting her feel various muscle groupings while Sera giggled at 'what an arse he looked’. Noelle put on her best professional face and ignored her, but it was hard. She wasn’t used to an audience.

“You used to study in a Circle, is that right?”

Trevelyan raised an eyebrow. “The Templars never beat my knees in if that’s where you’re going with this.”

“No! Fuck no.” Noelle waved her arms in frantic denial. “I was more getting at the type of activities you’re used to. I’m picturing a lot of sitting and flipping through large tomes, taking notes and the like.”

“Depends on the mage. I was quite studious.” He looked both suspicious and amused after all the exercises, groping, and copious check-ins and apologies for all the groping.

“Thought so. The problem with your knees is quite simple. Your gluteal muscles are underdeveloped.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“The muscles in your butt.”

“Are underdeveloped.”

“Yes.”

Sera was cackling, hands clutching her stomach. “She’s saying you don’t have a nice butt! Just walks right up to the Herald, right? Hi. Your arse is just shite!” 

“Do keep your voice down,” Surgeon interjected, a sharp tone and stern expression doing nothing to Sera’s volume level.

Trevelyan turned to Noelle. “Are you saying I don’t have a nice bottom?” His face was almost completely straight but a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave it away.

“Far be it for me to judge aesthetic, Herald, but it is a little on the weak side.”

He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “How is that to blame for me knees, exactly?”

“Your quads… the thigh muscles here,” she poked lightly at the front of his thighs, “are doing all the work and they’re messing with your knees. It’s actually quite common in athletes who don’t know how to activate their glutes. You’re doing a lot of hiking and physical fighting for the first time in your life and it’s just becoming a problem now.”

“Is it fixable?”

“Totally.” 

If someone had told Noelle that she’d be feeling up the bottom of a god’s emissary to teach him how to activate his glutes, she probably would have laughed and doodled it with aforementioned emissary done up with glowing bits and irritated noises and… come to think of it, she thought as she caught a flash of Trevelyan’s glowing green wrist, this wasn’t too far off. Didn’t make it any less strange when she zoomed out though. 

She sent him off with exercises and between his copious eye rolling and Sera’s snickering, she breathed a sigh of relief at their exit. “Thank the Maker,” Surgeon muttered, evidently also relieved. “Leave it to that one to return from Val Royeaux with the least well-behaved elf he can find.”

Suddenly Noelle realized that the Herald’s return meant that Solas would also be back in Haven, possibly in his cabin, that Noelle had been staying in, that she had left cluttered up with sketches and clothes. Oh crap. She left Surgeon with rushed apologies and nearly flew across Haven to the little cabin near to the Chantry. With any luck she would get there before he did.

“Hey Bi-”

“Not now, Varric!” She called back as she raced past.

She threw open the door to see Solas sitting on his unmade bed (because of course she hadn’t made it) with a handful of sketches in front of him.

“Oh fuck. I’m so sorry, Solas. I’ll clean all this up and get out of your hair right away. Fuck. I didn’t know you were getting back so quick. I’m not even usually this messy.” She began gathering her clothes from the day before and stuffing them in a pack.

“Your lines here are very bold. What made you choose this perspective?”

“What?”

He handed her the sketch. It was the Chantry but done stylistically and from a low angle so it appeared imposing and judgemental, or at least that was her intent.

“I did a more accurate one. It’s an interesting looking building.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. “That’s just how I feel when I think about how they operate in this world. I’m not sure they’re making it a better place? I don’t see how locking people up for a quirk of their birth is supposed to do that anyways.”

“I very much agree.”

She stood awkwardly for a second. “I’ll just get all this out of your way.”

“I offered for you to stay once. That offer is still available, lethallan. There is more space here than is necessary for a single person.”

“Oh, I don’t-”

He held his hand up between them. “Think on it. It is an open offer.”

Noelle nodded, continuing to tidy up the mess she had left behind.

“I would, of course, expect a tidier roommate, should you accept.”

She shot a look in his direction. The edge of his lips curled just slightly. He was teasing her. 

Jerk.

“You are quite good with faces,” he commented as he returned his attention to her sketches.

“Can I do you sometime?”

“You would like to draw me?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed. “The angles of your face are so striking. Your jaw and cheekbones could be sculpted from marble.”

He smirked at her. Had he ever smirked at her before? She found herself blushing. “You just look unique, is all.”

“I would very much like to see how you translate my likeness to the page.”

“Good.” Still awkward. Still blushing. 

“We can begin your lessons at the same time. That is, if you still wish to learn.”

“To learn? Oh! Elven. Yes. Absolutely, yes.”

“Vin.”

“Huh?”

“Vin. Yes.”

“Vin,” she repeated, trying very hard to match the shape of the word with her mouth. He smiled and flooded her senses with his approval, making her feel even more off balance. She suddenly  _ really  _ needed to get some air.

She scooped up the remainder of her items and scurried out quickly, wondering what the fuck had just happened. 

And ran straight into Varric.

“Wanted to talk to you. You look... Did something happen in there? You're all flustered like- Ah. Got it. Question redacted.” He winked at her dramatically.

“No! Nothing like whatever is going on in your head happened.”

He frowned. "Did he do anything I wouldn't approve of?"

"No. Now stop it. You're my drinking buddy, not my dad. What did you want to talk about?"

“I have something you might wish to see.” He grinned, waving a letter in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding: Is Anders alive?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (71%)  
>  \- No
> 
> Worldbuilding: Who did Hawke romance?  
> \- **Fenris** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- Isabella  
> \- Merrill  
> \- Anders
> 
> Noelle encouraged Varric to reach out to old companions. They’ll need whatever support they can get. Who responds with an offer of help?  
> \- Isabella  
> \- **Fenris** Winner! (40%)  
>  \- Merrill  
> \- Sebastian
> 
> How do Sera and Noelle get along?  
> \- **Well. They both dislike classism and like to joke around** Winner! (66%)  
>  \- Poorly. Noelle is too interested in magic and ‘elfy’ things


	19. A New Ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see how it is - Y'all are Fenris lovers up in this fic!
> 
> Worldbuilding: Is Anders alive?  
> \- **Yes** Winner! (71%)  
>  \- No
> 
> Worldbuilding: Who did Hawke romance?  
> \- **Fenris** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- Isabella  
> \- Merrill  
> \- Anders
> 
> Noelle encouraged Varric to reach out to old companions. They’ll need whatever support they can get. Who responds with an offer of help?  
> \- Isabella  
> \- **Fenris** Winner! (40%)  
>  \- Merrill  
> \- Sebastian
> 
> How do Sera and Noelle get along?  
> \- **Well. They both dislike classism and like to joke around** Winner! (66%)  
>  \- Poorly. Noelle is too interested in magic and ‘elfy’ things

 

Varric slid the letter across the table and Noelle plucked it quickly from the surface, greedy eyes tearing into its contents. He raised a mug to his lips, taking a deep swig. Varric wasn’t sure how to feel. Bringing in capable people who had been around the block a few times, bringing in friends, could only help in this strange quest to close the hole in the sky. At the same time, he felt guilt. He was prepared to protect Hawke from being dragged into all this, but here he was, asking the rest of their friends to come help.

And one of them had agreed.

“Fenris is coming?”

Varric nodded. “He is.”

“Oh. Oh wow” Noelle suddenly appeared flustered, colour rising to her cheeks and she looked back at the letter. “That’s umm- That’s good. I’m sure he’ll be, uhh, a big help.”

Varric chuckled. This woman had all the subtlety of Antivan Fire. “I take it whatever stories you were reading from your world were… flattering?”

“What? Ah, yes. To all of you. Everyone was made very, erm, interesting.”

“I have a feeling he’s only partly coming to help,” Varric said, pursing his lips in concern.

Noelle’s brows furrowed. “Fenris has always been a defender of the vulnerable from dangerous magic, isn’t the hole in the sky enough reason?”

“Fenris cares about many things but I’m guessing this has more to do with Hawke than his letter indicates.”

“Ah.” A slow smile spread from the corner of her lips. “So Fenris and Hawke then.”

“Once upon a time,” he affirmed. The smile dropped. He shrugged. “Things change, Biscuit.”

“What happened?”

“That one isn’t my story to tell. It’s all feelings and messiness and Hawke wants the Tale of the Champion’s ending to stay as it is.”

Her mug slammed on the table. “You’ve heard from Hawke?”

Shit. “He sent the occasional letter before all this started,” he bluffed. “Been awhile.”

“Oh. So you don’t know where he is then?”

“Nah. It’s a need to know. I don’t even want to know. Easier that way.”

“Oh.” He could feel the disappointment radiating from her. He’d felt the same thing from Cassandra. So much hope put on just one man; it was too much. He watched the emotions flitting across her face until it scrunched in confusion and she raised an assessing eyebrow at him. “Did you call me Biscuit earlier?”

“Nicknames are one of my many talents. Do you like it?”

She laughed, waving her hands in protest. “I wouldn’t dare question the choices of the man who came up with Blondie and Choir-Boy.”

“Not everything has to be creative, you know. Sometimes appropriate is enough.”

“What are we drinking to?” The Herald slid into the booth next to Noelle and a nimble Sera plopped down into the seat next to Varric.

Noelle blushed. “New allies?”

“To me, then!” Sera laughed, pouring back more ale in a single gulp than he’d ever seen an elf her size manage. But then, Daisy was always a teetotaller and Fenris was hardly petite. 

They drank, and Varric found himself a bit disappointed that he wasn’t getting to witness Noelle and Sera’s first meeting. The elf made an impression and Varric wasn’t exactly the type to mediate those introductions. He would let them happen and catalogue any moments that would translate well to the page.

“So this is where we hang out then?” Sera asked, looking around. “Not too bad. Looks like you could throw a drink at the wall without getting turned out.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Noelle wrinkled her nose in confusion.

“Dunno. Gotta wait and see. But it’s important to know you can.”

“Seems like a waste of a good drink to me.”

“Nah. You’re thinking on it all wrong. You gotta throw someone else’s drink.”

Noelle laughed. “Okay, that’s something I can get behind.” The women clinked their mugs over the table and Varric shared an amused look with the Herald. It was strange to think that this woman came with contacts, but he was at least passingly aware of the Red Jennies and they were spread out enough to be considered useful.

“Any case,” Sera added. “Doubt we’ll see Lady Metal Britches in here and that’s a big point.”

“The Seeker has been known to come in for a drink on occasion,” Varric informed her.

“Not that one. The fancy one with the title.”

“Many of us have titles, Sera,” the Herald smirked, clearly winding her up. “I might be a mage but I’m still technically a lord. Plus I’m the Herald of Andraste now. Varric is the head of his house and Deshyr for the city of Kirkwall. Noelle here is a princess from her home country-”

“I most certainly am not!” 

“You’re a shit liar, Herald. You’ve got to know your audience and know your allies before you start.” 

“Forgive me,” he drawled. “Circle mages are a mite more gullible than the average Thedan.”

“Don’t worry,” Varric assured, reaching out and clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll teach you.”

“Wait. So who is Lady Metal Britches then?” Noelle asked. Her only response was Sera’s snorting laughter and the slow shake of Trevelyan’s head.

\--

Noelle leaned against the wall, watching the fight from a distance. She had actually been on her way somewhere but found herself slowing at the sight of muscular bodies clashing together, swords swinging, sweat dripping, shirts abandoned. Rylen’s shirt specifically. Maybe she wasn’t ready for any kind of a relationship right now, but that certainly didn’t preclude her from looking.

As she watched, her eyes were also drawn to his opponent. The Seeker, Cassandra, had stripped down to a loose tank top in the afternoon heat, her arms flexing with each swing and just as sculpted as Rylen. “Damn,” she said to herself.

They were also being watched by dozens of new recruits, mostly refugees flowing in from the Crossroads according to Varric. A few metres away, Cullen also stood and observed, standing straight with arms crossed. She realized she hardly ever saw him actually fighting. Was it because he was ill? From this distance, he appeared to be feeling alright today.

Her eyes returned to the fight just in time to see Cassandra smash her shield into Rylen, toppling him into the dirt and aiming her sword at his neck. She pulled Rylen up and Cullen barked for them to go again as Noelle pursed her lips in concern. Surely the wind would have been knocked right out of him? He was panting but not struggling and he fell back into a defensive posture. Apparently those practice weapons didn’t hit as hard as the real ones. 

“What are we looking at?” 

Noelle jumped, an undignified squeak escaping her as she jerked around. “Christ on a fucking biscuit, Sera! You are silent as death!”

“Don’t much like biscuits,” she commented, as though that were the most natural response to the outburst. “Like that though. Very much could watch that with you for a day.”

Noelle blushed, feeling caught out like some thirsty teenage girl. At least she was caught by someone who had the same weakness? But then, the way Cullen’s head was tilted made her suspect that she might have been caught out by him as well. Not that she cared what he thought about it.

“Could climb all over those muscles,” Sera added as the two clashed together, muscles straining as they pushed against the other.

“You know I totally hit that,” Noelle said. She didn’t know why, maybe a little bit of her just wanted Sera to think she was cool.

“What? You and the Seeker knocked nasties?”

Cullen jerked, his head twisting towards them before quickly turning forward and flushing brightly. So he was eavesdropping then. Noelle laughed, at both the suggestion and the reaction. “No. Fuck no. She’s never looked at me twice. With Lieutenant Rylen.”

“Oh.” Sera’s whole face scrunched up. “Too many dangly bits on that one. Lady Seeker is right fine though when she ain’t all scary eye on her chest throwing her power around.”

“Dangly bits can be nice on occasion.”

“Eww. Don’t think so. Only thing they’re good for is measuring.”

She couldn’t be certain, but Noelle distinctly thought she heard Cullen snort. When she looked though, he was staring ahead, straight-faced. She thought she could push it, keep following this train of conversation and see how well she could distract him. She turned to Sera and was immediately distracted herself. “Sera, why are you carrying a bucket of old food scraps?”

The elf cackled. “No reason,” she lied. Poorly. “I gotta go be a place now. Later.”

Noelle watched her scamper off with a puzzled face. She sounded very much like she was up to no good, which suited Noelle just fine as she wasn’t headed in the direction of any of her regular haunts. She threw some side eye at Cullen decided up to no good was just the kind of mood she was in as well. Served him right for eavesdropping anyways. 

“So which one would you prefer to...  _ spar  _ with,” she teased as she reached his side.

“I will not be sparring today.”

She rolled her eyes. Of course it went over his head. “Nevermind. You’re too straight-laced to tease apparently.”

He stared down at her before raising a single eyebrow. “You surely aren’t asking whether I enjoy, how did she put it, dangly bits?”

“Sure am.”

He shook his head, bringing his fingers to pinch his nose. Noelle quickly reached up and pulled it away and he glared at her. She stared right back. “You’re probably fine, but why risk it? It’s not been that long since the cast came off.”

Looking in his eyes, she could see they were bloodshot and she started to scan his face, noting the sweat on his brow, the splotchy flush on his neck and the sallow tone to his skin. “You’re still sick,” she accused.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s it. I’m getting Talia. This isn’t okay.”

“No, you won’t,” he hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the command tent and stopping in its centre just in front of his desk. 

“Let go of me, Commander” she ordered, attempting to twist out of his grip.

“Not until you promise not to storm off to announce my personal business.”

“You are sick. You’ve been unwell for as long as I’ve known you, almost months, and you don’t seem to be getting better. You get fevers, low blood pressure; you aren’t sleeping. You’re a goddamn mess, Cullen, and it could kill you. Why not let Talia check you out?”

“Because I already know what’s wrong with me and it’s not anyone’s business.”

“You have men under your command who need you well so they can live. I can’t believe you would sacrifice that because you want privacy. What happens if you get worse?”

“Cassandra will relieve me of duty. I have already tasked her with that responsibility.”

“Cassandra? She leaves for long periods of time with the Herald, and she’s got so many other things to look after already - not to mention that I would question her ability to be impartial.”

Cullen sighed, releasing her arm and moving to collapse in his chair. He buried his face in his hands. “I can’t have others knowing until I am successful or dead. If others follow my example and…” He pounded his fist on his desk, the loud thump causing Noelle to jump a bit in spite of herself. “Fine. I will tell you, if only to keep you from bringing more people into this mess.”

She crossed her arms, waiting.

“Lyrium. It’s what gives Templars our powers but it is also a leash. It controls us. Templars who stop taking it suffer. They may go mad. They may die. That’s why we’ve ensured that any Templars working with us here are supplied but I- I no longer take it.”

Noelle was dumbfounded. She didn’t know what she expected but this was not even on her radar. “You’re suffering withdrawal?”

“Is that the right term for it? Perhaps.”

Her mind was reeling. Physical symptoms of withdrawal didn’t last months on Earth, but then they didn’t ingest substances that were tied to magic and the Fade so who knows what’s going on there. She looked at him, his face cast downwards as he refused to look at her and determined it wasn’t the right time to ask those questions. “Why?” She asked instead. “If we have a supply, why not take it? Why go through all this? You’ve been miserable. You just admitted you could die.”

“I won’t allow myself to be controlled by the Order anymore. After Kirkwall…” He stopped, smearing his hand across his face. “Nevermind. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I might,” she offered, feeling suddenly soft.

“The important thing is that you don’t share what I’m doing. If anyone else decides to look at what I’ve done and follow before we even know if this will kill me… I don’t mean to put the Inquisition in danger. If that means you watching to make sure I’m not compromised then I accept. I just need it to be quiet.”

“Okay.”

He looked surprised. “Truly?”

“Yes. Truly. I will keep your secret, and I will even see what I can do to help on my own, but I will be keeping an eye on you.”

He nodded once. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned to leave before recollecting one last thing. “And Commander?”

“Hmm?”

“You will  _ never  _ grab me like that again.”

\--

Solas startled at the sound of a knock on his door. He pushed down the annoyance at having a visitor at this late hour just as he was laying down to visit the Fade. At the same time there was always that feeling in the back of his mind, the worry that the his mark on the Herald’s wrist would be acting up again and threatening his ability to undo all the harm he’d caused. That feeling drove him to the door. He had to be sure.

It wasn’t the Herald, but Noelle who stood in his doorway. “Oh,” was all she said when he opened the door. Her eyes travelled over him slowly and he remembered he was only wearing loose pants for sleeping in. He felt immediately hot and restless under gaze, it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him in that fashion. It certainly hadn’t occurred in the time since he had awoken from the Uthenera.

“I was turning in for the evening.”

Her eyes turned to where the sun was just setting and she smirked. “Sorry. I forgot you like to think of yourself as an old man.”

“It is not simply sleep that I seek. Often my journeys in the Fade are more interesting and invigorating than those in the waking world.”

“I know what you mean. I often find myself stalked by a strange elf when I travel there.”

He smiled in acknowledgement of her joke and waited as she shifted awkwardly. “Is there something you need, lethallan?”

“No. Sorry. I’ll leave. We just hadn’t discussed a time for lessons and, uhh, sketches. I thought I’d see if you were free. I didn’t realize you were heading to bed. Good night, then.”

Strangely, the idea of escaping into his dreams did not seem as appealing as it had a moment ago. “I had no pressing engagements. I believe this evening the Fade can wait.” 

“Ah. Well. Okay then.” She moved past him through the door, taking great pains to avoid accidentally brushing against his bare chest. He toyed for a moment with the idea of opening up his magic to her emotions, but it hardly seemed necessary. 

“Would you like me to put a shirt on? You appear uncomfortable.”

“What? No. It’s fine. I work with shirtless, injured men at the clinic regularly. I am hardly some blushing girl who cannot handle the sight of a bare chest.” All the same, he noticed she was focused on organizing her art supplies and did not aim her gaze directly at him. He also noticed the faint flush on her cheeks.

She rose and retrieved a lamp from across the room, setting it on the small table she had set up on. She gestured to the chair opposite. “Sit?” 

He did so, interested to see what she would produce of his likeness. How she depicts him could tell him much about her. She frowned, got up and fetched a couple books to stack under the lamp, changing the angle of the lighting.

“I thought this evening we could concentrate on a few common phrases. Next time I will begin to teach you how sentence structure and verb conjugation works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding: What was Hawke?  
> \- **Mage** Winner! (54%)  
>  \- Rogue  
> \- Warrior
> 
> Why isn’t Fenris with Hawke?  
> \- Hawke abandoned him, scared he would die (canon)  
> \- **Pro-mage Hawke wanted to track down Anders, Fenris left** Winner! (55%)
> 
> What kind of portrayal of Solas does Noelle make?  
> \- He looks powerful and god-like  
> \- **He looks vulnerable and lonely** Winner! (72%)  
>  \- He looks perceptive and wise
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! As always, let me know your thoughts and reasonings and just generally say things so I can scream at you :) 
> 
> Also, for those of you who are really enjoying the whole 'voting' aspect of this, you should know there are two other fics (that I know of) that have picked up the idea! There is [ The Painted Mirror](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16165916/chapters/37772462) and [ The Anderfel Champion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702150/chapters/36492027). Just a heads up to mind the tags if you delve in. Both fics are darker than this and deal with torture and non-con. If those things don't bother you and you want more opportunities to vote and engage with stories though, I'm sure those folks would love you to check out their take on it.


	20. A Flawed Attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks. I'm so sorry for all the writing delays. It's been a time lately. (Illness. Registration exams. Relationship problems. Birthday. Just so many things.) This chapter isn't even long or smutty to make up for it. But it's here, and hopefully that's enough?
> 
> Worldbuilding: What was Hawke?  
> \- **Mage** Winner! (54%)  
>  \- Rogue  
> \- Warrior
> 
> Why isn’t Fenris with Hawke?  
> \- Hawke abandoned him, scared he would die (canon)  
> \- **Pro-mage Hawke wanted to track down Anders, Fenris left** Winner! (55%)
> 
> What kind of portrayal of Solas does Noelle make?  
> \- He looks powerful and god-like  
> \- **He looks vulnerable and lonely** Winner! (72%)  
>  \- He looks perceptive and wise
> 
> Also, okay, okay. AO3 DA fandom really likes their mages! This is quite what the votes are telling me every week ;)

Noelle worried her bottom lip as she finished some of the shading under his jaw. She glanced up to see Solas watching her. 

“Nearly done.” 

He hummed, lacing his fingers together and resting patient hands on the table. Noelle was taking longer on this one. Henrietta had been all excitement to see what she created and Noelle had sketched quickly just to stop her bouncing and craning over to see the progress being made. With Solas, she felt that what she created was somehow more important than the fact she was creating it, so she had taken her time. It might have taken less time if she hadn’t been already half way through before he finally put a shirt on in response to the creeping chill in the night air.

“How do you say ‘teacher’?” She asked, continuing their lesson and distracting from the waiting.

“Ghil’en.”

“So when we’re having lessons should I call you Ghil’en Solas?” It was a joke but his scowl in response is what made her laugh.

“No. It is a descriptor, not a title. If you would like to tease me in such a fashion, the word ‘hahren’ would be more appropriate.”

“Hahren,” she repeated, forming the vowels carefully in her mouth.

“It has a connotation more of a mentor or a wise elder, but it means a teacher as well.”

“Seems like it might stroke your ego too much for my purposes,” she laughed.

“It is up to your preference. Is it complete?”

She gave a resigned sigh and passed the image across the table. She placed her hands in her lap, tapping fingers on her thighs anxiously.

“This is how you see me?”

“I had a hard time with your chin and I’ve never drawn elf ears before…”

He smiled indulgently. “No. It is a good likeness. Very technically proficient.”

“Ma serannas, Solas,” she mumbled, practising the words.

He smiled again, before it dropped to a slight frown. “I appear weak. Old, or tired, perhaps.”

Noelle stood and walked around the table to look at the drawing again, peering over his shoulder. “Lonely,” she murmured as she examined the eyes she’d set onto the paper. 

“You see me as lonely.” He twisted to look her in the eye. She blushed, embarrassed to be admitting it.

“It’s the first thing you ever showed me of yourself.”

A quiet sigh barely made it to her ears as he rose and crossed the room away from her, still holding the drawing. “I had tried to keep that part of myself away from you since then. I merely used the feelings to help you understand my strange behaviour.”

“Feelings like that tend to stick with you. I would not just forget it, Solas.”

“Then I regret showing you. It was not my intention to burden you with my failures.”

She was taken aback. What did that even mean? “Failures? What are you talking about? Being lonely isn’t a failure.”

Solas stood silently, his face drawn and tense, and she went to him. It was the weirdest relationship she’d ever had with someone, but she considered him a friend now and she didn't like seeing him hurting. She reached out, tentatively putting a hand against his chest and giving him time to pull away. He didn’t. She slid her arms up and around his neck, pushing up onto her toes and hugging him. He was stiff for a moment before his arms wrapped around her back and he accepted her embrace.

“If you ever want to tell me what happened, I’m here,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “It might help.”

“Perhaps,” he returned, but it sounded like a lie.

“Well, the offer still stands,” she murmured as she pulled away. She returned to the table, gathered her pencils and reached for the sketchbook. 

“Would you object to me keeping it?”

Noelle tilted her head in confusion. “But looking at it makes you sad.”

“It reminds me of something,” he said quietly. “Something important.”

Noelle a strange twisting in her gut as she watched him. “Somehow I don’t think it’s something you’d forget even without it.”

“You are probably right.” He looked at her with a sad smile. “And yet sometimes there are… moments.”

“Of course you can keep it, Solas. It is your likeness, after all.”

“Ma serannas, lethallan.”

“Emma neral. On nydha,  _ hahren _ .”

He smiled, letting himself be amused by her teasing. “On nydha,  _ da’len _ .”

Noelle wrinkled her nose. “Okay, what is ‘da’len’?”

“A lesson for another night.”

\--

Where was that man? Noelle had searched all his usual haunts: near his tent, the armoury, the tavern, the range… Nothing. She had questions. She looked up at the Chantry. Perhaps there was some important meeting going? She could wait, but she was bored and feeling nosey. If there was an important meeting, waiting for Varric was her best chance of finding out what it was about.

The Chantry was dim, lit only by candles that did little to fill the enormous stone room. She had only been in once before, when Varric dragged her around Haven on a tour, and had avoided it since. She didn’t like it; it gave her the creeps. It wasn’t just that it reminded her of circles and Templars, and studiously avoiding problems until a desperate and unwell man… Well, she was getting distracted. 

The important thing was that the door at the back was open, which meant nobody was discussing anything in there. “Damn it, Varric! Where the hell are you?”

“I believe he has accompanied the Herald to the Hinterlands,” a dry voice commented behind her. 

Noelle jumped, squeaking in surprise and barely managing to squish the torrent of swears back down her throat. She was in a church after all, even if for a religion she didn’t believe in. She spun to see the most statuesque woman she’d ever laid eyes on. “Nobody ever tells me anything,” she joked by way of apology for disturbing her.

The woman smiled. “And who might you be that you would expect to be informed of the comings and goings of our Herald?”

“Oh, I’m not- I’m just a healer.”

Her expression warmed. “Ah. A very rare talent that. I have some talent for healing myself, though it is very draining to ensure any spirits called upon remain under my control. I have recently been researching how to- well, that is a conversation for another time. Which Circle did you attend, my dear?”

“Noelle is one of our non-magical healers,” another voice said in a rich accent. It’s source was another beautiful woman, her face all warm kindness and pep. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Oh, excuse me! Not formally, no, but I am very familiar with you. You caused quite the stir when you dropped into our little organization.” Noelle blushed at the reminder of the chaos and mistrust that had accompanied that part of her experience in Thedas. 

“Please don't be embarrassed,” she continued. “It was entirely our fault. You’ve been nothing but direct and open with us.” She smiled and it lit her whole face. “I am Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador of the Inquisition. This is Madame de Fer, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchanter to the Royal Court of Empress Celene.”

The titles washed over her, almost devoid of meaning in their entirety they were so lofty. What was she even doing here? She suddenly realized that she had been spending time with a wealthy and famous author, chastising the head of an army, having lessons with the man tasked to keep the magic mark on the Herald from killing him, and generally running around feeling far more self-important than she had any right to.

She swallowed.

“Pleasure to meet you both.”

“We sent the clinic a young man, I recall. An apostate to be trained under Talia? How does he fair?”

“He is trying. I don’t think he has much skill for healing. He’s getting rather frustrated.”

Lady Montilyet made a clucking noise with her tongue. “That is a shame. We do not have a surplus of mages to teach the boy but I know the Herald is particularly concerned for his well-being and success.”

“It is possible that while I remain in Haven that I could spare some small amount of time to the boy’s education. If he is important to the Herald, then he is important to us all. It is a true shame that the boy has been denied a proper Circle education, but I might be able to replicate some of the more basic lessons with the limited resources available here.”

“Madame de Fer, you are too generous. I will arrange a space for you and be certain to inform the Herald when we next make contact. He’ll be most pleased.”

Evidently, some signal that the conversation was over had been passed because the two women turned away in tandem, leaving Noelle confused as to what had just occurred. She was also pretty sure that the Lady Montilyet had winked at her as she did so and Noelle had no idea what to take from it. 

Something had just happened and both women clearly understood what it was better than she did.

\--

Noelle was feeling pretty cocky. She’d moved back twenty metres and still managed to hit all three targets. They weren’t exactly bullseyes but she hadn’t missed. Jim whooped when she hit the third and Noelle broke out into the kind of dance only a white woman carrying a bow could imagine. 

She heard a whizzing noise followed by three quick clunks in succession. Arrows projected proudly from the centre of all the targets. She whipped around to see Sera, a solid fifty metres behind her, slowly lowering her bow with a grin on her face. “You’re pretty rubbish at that, healer.”

“Hey!” She protested. “I only started learning a couple months ago.”

“Really? Should’a picked a big axe or a hammer or something. They’re easy. You just swing ‘em around and you’re bound to hit something, yeah? You need skill to hit stuff with an arrow.”

Noelle rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Sera. Just for that I’m not buying you a drink when Jim and I head off after this.”

Sera snorted. “Wouldn’t drink with you anyways. Got plenty more interesting things to do. Plenty.” She stuck out her tongue and did a back flip, firing another arrow mid-jump, and ran off laughing.

The arrow had landed right next to the other in the centre target. 

Noelle glowered and stomped to the targets, pulling arrows out and dropping them in the quiver she’d slung over her back. 

“Do you want to take a break?” Jim asked. “I feel like I just watched all the fun drain out of you.”

“No,” she snapped. “I want to get better.”

“You are getting better.”

Noelle glared at him but his earnest face was impossible to be upset with. “I want to get better faster,” she said, laughing at herself. “Sorry. Just another few shots and we can go?”

Being stubborn had gotten Noelle into trouble in the past, but this time it spurred her into her very first bullseye shot. It was definitely more chance than skill, but it didn’t matter as she dropped her bow and, screaming, flew into Jim and tackled him to the ground in a graceless and ecstatic hug. 

Two soldiers were on top of them almost instantly, stuttering to a surprised stop when no one was being attacked. Noelle gestured excitedly at the arrow in the centre of the target. “I did that!” 

They were not impressed.

\--

Elvhen Translations

_ Ma serannas, lethallan. - Thank you, close friend (Kin) _

_ Emma neral. On nydha, hahren. - My pleasure (You're welcome). Good night, teacher. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For possible new readers (because it's been a couple days and this isn't being posted on a Wednesday this week): Each question is a link to a poll where you can vote on the answers. I love it when you tell me your thoughts and decisions in the comments though!
> 
> Other notes: For folks wondering about Fenris' arrival, he's going to eventually come back with them from the Storm Coast.
> 
> Is Noelle suspicious of Blackwall?  
> \- **Yes, something about his stories don't add up** Winner! (64%)  
>  \- No, she is too excited to meet a warden to notice
> 
> Noelle is developing a crush. **It is unrequited.** Who is she crushing on?  
> \- **Varric** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- Cassandra  
> \- Vivienne
> 
> What fun fanfic trope moment do you want to see?  
> \- **Accidentally see(n) naked** Tie! (36%)  
>  \- **Injured and needs to be carried** Tie! (36%)  
>  \- Drunken confession
> 
> Who does it happen with?  
> \- Solas Runner up! (38%)  
> \- **Cullen** Winner! (40%)  
>  \- Sera  
> \- New Crush


	21. Another New Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Noelle suspicious of Blackwall?  
> \- **Yes, something about his stories don't add up** Winner! (64%)  
>  \- No, she is too excited to meet a warden to notice
> 
> Noelle is developing a crush. **It is unrequited.** Who is she crushing on?  
> \- **Varric** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- Cassandra  
> \- Vivienne
> 
> What fun fanfic trope moment do you want to see?  
> \- **Accidentally see(n) naked** Tie! (36%)  
>  \- **Injured and needs to be carried** Tie! (36%)  
>  \- Drunken confession
> 
> Who does it happen with?  
> \- Solas Runner up! (38%)  
> \- **Cullen** Winner! (40%)  
>  \- Sera  
> \- New Crush
> 
> So we ended up with a tie again this week! But we also nearly had a tie (1 vote off) on the related "who does it happen with" question so I have decided that since they do not have to be mutually exclusive, we'll get one trope with Solas and one will Cullen. Hopefully that is satisfying to all!

She spotted the Herald practically from halfway across Haven. He’s easy to find, the way crowds freeze to watch him pass, still in awe after months of his presence. She couldn’t help but smile. They were back. She got a little lonely sometimes when the party was gone. She spent so much time at the clinic that she didn’t always want to socialize with her fellow healers during off hours. She didn’t see much of Rylen anymore. He pretended things were normal, winking and joking with her when they crossed paths but they weren’t really friends. Never had been, honestly. That mostly left Jim as the only person she spent time with regularly. Sweet Jim who was very much still a boy and who she was beginning to suspect had a bit of a crush on her. She had to be on her guard with him, as much as she enjoyed his company.

That all certainly explained her giddiness at the knowledge that the team had returned and the fact that her mind went straight to wondering where Varric was.

The Herald walked with someone she’d never seen before. She was pretty sure anyways. He wore unfamiliar armour and a mass of impressive facial hair. There were, perhaps, a dozen men in Haven with significant facial hair. The Inquisition's armies were composed of a disconcerting number of fresh-faced youths and elves didn’t seem to grow any at all.

Perhaps it was some foreign dignitary with enough money not to worry about whether he presented as a lumberjack. Wait, were lumberjacks a thing in Thedas?

Noelle shook her head. She’d find out if she needed to know. About the man, not lumberjacks. _Christ, Noelle, get your head on straight._

She went to his tent first and, not finding him there, then jogged over to the tavern. Because of course he went to the tavern nearly as soon as he returned.

“Varric!” Noelle called out his name almost before she realized she was doing so. “You’re back!” She felt her whole face split into a grin. 

“Hey, Biscuit. Good to see you’re still in one piece.”

“Good to see you’re still in one piece,” she returned as she slid into the seat next to him. “You’re the one who actually went out to perform dangerous heroics.”

A cloud slid briefly over his face, gone almost before it appeared. “Let’s get you a drink,” he said as he waved one over.

She frowned. “Varric? Is everything okay?”

“Just dealing with the mage-templar conflict required more… active intervention than I had hoped for.” He reached over and covered her hand with his larger one, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling as he looked at her. 

Noelle felt her face begin to heat and she reached for the ale that had just been deposited in front of her, taking a large mouthful. 

She froze. Her body was suddenly in a panic and she nearly spit the vile stuff all over the table. She just barely managed to compose herself enough to spit it back into the mug. “Blegh!” Varric stared at her.

She heard Sera’s distinctive cackling from somewhere. “What the hell, Sera?” She twisted to find the woman as she pranced over. 

“Put salt in it. Cause you were being  _ salty _ ,” she giggled. “Serves you right for saying you wouldn’t drink with me.”

It took Noelle a moment to recollect what she had said in response to the elf’s criticism of her lackluster archery skills. She  _ had  _ been a bit salty about it.  Noelle started laughing. It was too ridiculous. “Somebody get me some water and a replacement drink, please!” She could feel tears streaming from her face and she wasn’t sure how much they were from laughing and how much from the strain of nearly ejecting disgusting salt beer all over the place. 

Varric returned quickly with a glass of water that Noelle chugged down in one go. She swiped her cheeks with her shirt sleeves, getting rid of the wet tears that had pooled there. “You okay, Biscuit?” Varric’s heavy hand landed on her shoulder as he sized her up, searching for further signs of distress. 

A replacement mug arrived. “I've put the last one on  _ her  _ bill,” the waitress said as she stabbed a finger in Sera’s direction. “Don’t rightly know how she snuck it in there without me noticing but you have my apologies, ma’am.”

Noelle waved it away. “No apologies needed. I have no doubt that Sera was very sneaky, and it was a good prank.”

She sensed it, not half an hour later when the Herald came in. She didn’t need to see him, she could tell from the way one part of the tavern went conspicuously silent before it rippled out until the whole place had stopped to look. 

He was flanked by Cassandra and the man she had seen him with earlier. Cassandra looked around the tavern, appearing distinctly irritated with the attention, and made a noise of unmistakable annoyance and disgust. Heads bowed and conversations began to murmur back to life.

Varric was already dragging extra chairs to their table to make room, when he stopped and made an apologetic face. “Sorry Biscuit. I forgot you’re not comfortable around the Seeker. We can go for a walk or something.”

“It’s alright, Varric,” she smiled, pleased he’d taken the time to consider her feelings. She would have explained further but they were too close, already pulling out chairs and settling in.

“What? She’s all squishy underneath the armour bits. I mean, underneath all the muscles. She’s alright anyways.” 

Noelle cleared her throat awkwardly. “Yes. Thank you Sera.”

“Lady Williams and I did not have the most amicable introduction and I’m afraid that was my fault,” Cassandra said stiffly. “I can leave.”

“No. Please stay. It was months ago. What’s a few threats of torture in the grand scheme of things anyways?” It was a biting joke and Noelle regretted it almost immediately, clamping her lips together tightly. She was certain if she had a mirror that she could have watched the colour drain from her face. 

The silence was stifling.

Suddenly, the Herald began to laugh. “Seems like Cassandra was threatening half of Thedas after that explosion.” He clapped her on the back, giddy. “Some introduction to the crew, eh Blackwall?”

“It was a stressful time,” Cassandra muttered.

“It’s certainly been interesting,” Blackwall said over her, and grinning.

“And it was only people coming out of the Fade. Mostly,” she continued.

Varric was laughing now and Noelle couldn’t help but join in once Sera began sniggering and pointing at the red-faced Seeker. 

“Yes. Let’s all have a laugh at the expense of a stressed and grieving woman,” she opined, but even she was ruefully smiling now.

Once they settled, Varric began pointing. “Buttercup, Biscuit, Hero. Hero, Biscuit, Buttercup.”

“Names, Varric. They have names.” The Herald shook his head but lifted his ale, apparently not committed enough to do the introductions himself.

“Blackwall. Gordon Blackwall. Constable of the Grey.”

“Sera,” the elf pointed to herself. “Salty Shot,” pointing to Noelle.

“Of the Grey? As in the Grey Wardens?” Noelle found herself leaning forward.

“Aye.”

She finally started to take stock of the man properly. He had kind eyes under all that hair and he was built like a brickhouse. He reminded her a bit of Duncan in that moment, but maybe that was just wistful thinking.

“What’s it like,” she breathed.

“It is a life of duty and honour.” 

“No. I mean, what does it  _ feel  _ like?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure I don’t know how to respond, my lady.”

“I’m so sorry. I- I forgot that it’s all a big secret. I guess I got carried away. I’m just… I know a lot about the Grey Wardens and the Fifth Blight. I read about it all at home, you see and… I’m making a total prat of myself.”

“Pretty much,” Sera chirped.

“Ah, we like you even when you stick your foot in it.” Varric rubbed circles on her back reassuringly and Noelle found herself very distracted. She almost missed Blackwall’s response.

“It is nice to see that someone holds such interest for the organization.”

“Anyways, I just think it’s really cool that you made such sacrifices,” she mumbled.

She thought he might be blushing under all the facial hair and determined to drop it. She could talk to him later in private where he wouldn’t be outing secrets and shifting awkwardly in his seat. Besides, she couldn’t quite think of the next thing to say while Varric’s hand rested comfortably on her back as he began his next story.

\--

“Yasin, could you fetch us some tea, please? Something bracing. It’s likely to be a long night with this one.” Surgeon looked down at her patient, dabbing his damp brow gently.

Yasin nodded, leaving in silence. Surgeon was relatively certain the man knew there was something going on. He was smart and they hadn’t been able to avoid creating a pattern: ask him to leave when a patient was fairing particularly poorly and act baffled when they took a turn for the better by the next day. 

Surgeon looked at Talia meaningfully as she rolled a privacy screen into place. The patients appeared to be sleeping but this was not a subtle process. Lesser healing was more easily channeled through Talia. For something like this, they’d have to let  _ her _ have control.

The man moaned. His face was ghastly pale and he was clearly not lucid. Surgeon nodded once, stepping back to give Talia space. Her partner smiled kindly and placed her hand on the patient’s cheek. “You will be alright. You still have much to offer this world.” It was Talia’s form speaking the words but no longer quite Talia’s voice. 

She began to glow, a pale yellow light that shone through her eyes and made her skin appear almost translucent as the healing magic settled from her onto the young man on the cot. Talia, well not really Talia, was speaking quietly under her breath in a soft chant. The words were indiscernible and yet Surgeon felt soothed, as she always did by this presence. 

The spirit turned to her. “He will recover to fight another day.”

Surgeon nodded, a singular dip of her chin in acknowledgement. “Please return my wife to me now.”

“Of course,” the spirit answered. The glow began to fade and a dazed Talia blinked erratically. 

“Did it work?” She heard Talia ask the question but she couldn’t answer. She had become frozen by the person she now realized was standing over her shoulder. Talia turned and they both faced their unexpected guest in silence.

“What are you doing here?” She was stalling, searching for a lie. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” Noelle’s eyes darted between them. “Please tell me that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It was magic,” Surgeon said quickly, stepping in between them. “Don’t make ridiculous assumptions.”

“I’m not an idiot, Surgeon. I hardly think you’d keep me on if I was. I’ve seen Talia do healing magic and it did not look like that. Not to mention that you are both looking extremely guilty.”

“What are you saying, girl? Spit it out.”

Noelle dropped her voice, making sure no one half awake would overhear. “I’m saying the only time I’ve seen something like that before was in an abomination.”

“She is not an abomination,” Surgeon hissed. “She is a spirit healer and that requires calling on spirits. It was explained to you.”

“Lying won’t do us any good,” Talia soothed, placing a hand on Surgeon’s arm. “If she is suspicious, she’ll just go to the Templars anyways. Better to explain, my love.”

“You have a spirit inside you,” Noelle confirmed.

“Yes.”

“What kind of spirit?”

Talia made a puzzled face. “That’s not a question I was expecting. It’s a spirit of hope.”

“Hope. Oh.” Noelle paused, watching her hands. “Is that why you joined the Inquisition?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sure hope when I asked if Talia was a spirit healer _like Anders and Wynne_ it was clear that I meant the abomination kind and not just the regular (though still uncommon) kind! As always, click on the links to vote and give me all your comments!
> 
> Does Noelle ‘move in’ with Solas?  
> \- **Yes, she trusts him now and (dear sweet Maker) she needs fewer snoring women around** Winner! (59%)  
>  \- No, it still feels uncomfortable and like an imposition
> 
> Does Noelle tell Cullen about Talia?  
> \- Yes, she remembers Justice/Vengeance and is concerned  
> \- **No, she doesn’t trust the Templars to handle it right** Winner! (95%)
> 
> How does Noelle react to seeing The Iron Bull?  
> \- Terrified  
> \- **Curious** Winner! (44%)  
>  \- Weirdly Chill


	22. A Nighttime Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Noelle ‘move in’ with Solas?  
> \- **Yes, she trusts him now and (dear sweet Maker) she needs fewer snoring women around** Winner! (59%)  
>  \- No, it still feels uncomfortable and like an imposition
> 
> Does Noelle tell Cullen about Talia?  
> \- Yes, she remembers Justice/Vengeance and is concerned  
> \- **No, she doesn’t trust the Templars to handle it right** Winner! (95%)
> 
> How does Noelle react to seeing The Iron Bull?  
> \- Terrified  
> \- **Curious** Winner! (44%)  
>  \- Weirdly Chill
> 
> Y'all, this chapter is nonsense! It goes nowhere. It's just one long and silly celebration of a trope you voted for! I hope you enjoy what you have wrought :o

Noelle stared at the lake. It had begun to freeze over. It wasn’t walkable yet but snow was settling on top of an icy surface all around a hole about ten metres in diameter. It would likely be closed up by tomorrow. 

She’d come here to think. A part of her was surprised the guards didn’t stop her from leaving at night but she had apparently passed the “being considered a danger” phase and was unlikely to ever be someone they would care about protecting by keeping behind safe walls. Worked well enough for her. Private time was almost unheard of in Haven, it was now so overcrowded. She really should leave its walls more. Not every excursion would result in her being threatened. Probably.

Crossing her arms, Noelle leaned against a nearby tree, contemplating. For an institutional fear that could get mages killed based on suspicion alone, abominations seemed surprisingly common in Thedas. Noelle alone knew of Wynne, Anders, and now Talia. 

What in the bloody hell was she supposed to do with this information?

She could hardly turn her into the Templars. She was pretty sure the only thing they would do with that information would be to kill the one person in the village with magical healing abilities. Not to mention that Talia seemed to be innocent of any… demonic activities?

Noelle sighed. She definitely did not have enough information to make a decision on this. 

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she stiffened. A figure lit up by moonlight was coming her way. It seemed to be coming from Haven but it could be anyone. She scanned around trying to think what to do and then looked upwards at the tree she had been leaning against. Looked climbable. She looked over at the figure. It didn’t appear to have noticed her or be paying any attention but it was heading directly for her. 

She took one last look at the ground and found the snow had fallen enough to obscure her tracks in the dim light. She grabbed a branch and hoisted herself up. The snow covered branches were frozen under her fingers, but they were rough and thick and easy to grip if she ignored the pain from the cold. It had been awhile since she’d climbed a tree, since she’d climbed anything really, but if she could send a 5.11+ then she was pretty certain she could trust muscle memory to ascend a tree, even after a few months.

She only hoped the disturbed snow from her climb wouldn’t look suspicious and cause the stranger to start looking for her. 

She settled on the highest branch she trusted to hold her weight and watched the figure’s approach, a dark stain moving silently through white snow. She looked up at the higher branches stretching into the sky, their dark undersides blocking the stars from her view. It was a mass of shadow that defied attempts to make sense of shapes. Good. Hopefully that was true from the ground as well.

She turned back to the approaching shadow. It was closer now. Clearly male, with surprisingly large shoulders? She squinted. No, not shoulders at all. A big furry mantle. Noelle rolled her eyes and dropped her head back against the tree trunk in exasperation. Of course it would be Cullen fucking Rutherford coming to ruin her peace and solitude.

Well, she’d just stay up there and wait for him to pass.

Only he didn’t pass. He stopped at the lake just next to the tree and stared out into the night. Of course neither of them thought it would be worth walking around the lake a bit before choosing a spot to settle but just chose the first one to be reached from Haven. Or perhaps... She thought for a moment that he knew she was there but then he knelt in the snow and began to murmur in lilting rhythmic tones. It could only be prayer.

She looked away, feeling intrusive and uncomfortable watching him. She was just glad she could not make out his words. 

But she could hear his tone and plea behind his voice and the way his pacing picked up speed and intensity together before collapsing into a disheartened sigh. She twisted, looking down at him curiously. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and Noelle startled. She didn’t realize he even knew how to swear. She’d never heard him say anything worse that ‘Maker’s Breath’. He must be having a really shit night. 

Cullen shoved his hands into the snow, bringing handfuls up and washing the cold over his face and through his hair again and again as if trying to shock something out of his system. “Fuck!” He shouted, rising and twisting and sending a closed fist directly into the tree Noelle was perched on. 

Her heart leapt in her chest. She wasn’t expecting it and she breathed heavily even as snow came raining down around her from the impact and she scrambled to scrape it out of her eyes. She felt her stomach lurch into her throat as her body lost its balance and she grabbed for the branch, trying to stop the inevitable crash into the branches and ground below.

She failed.

\--

Cullen shouted and jumped backwards, drawing his sword on instinct as the figure crashed its way to the ground. “Fuck!” She hissed and moaned, grabbing her leg defensively. It took his brain an extra few moments to determine what had just occurred and he slowly slid his sword back into its sheathe, feeling a measure of relief at the lack of real threat. He hadn’t bothered to put on his armour or even bring his shield. 

“Noelle? What in Maker’s name were you doing up there?”

“Trying to get some alone time,” she grumbled.

Cullen felt his fingers twitching. Something was off. “In the middle of the night? Why?” His questions came out more barking than intended.

“I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t lay awake listening to everyone else sleeping anymore.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Let me see,” he offered much more softly as he crouched down next to her.

She shot him a glare that he was certain could stop a demon. It was certainly enough for him to pull back. “I work in the clinic. I can assess the damage to my own ankle.”

“And I’ve been in the field with injuries,” he shot back. “I know how we can struggle to be clear-headed when we’re in pain.”

Noelle was ignoring him, gingerly feeling the area around her ankle. “I don’t think it’s broken anyways. Just a sprain. I’m not taking my boot off just in case.” She tentatively began to stand, slowly shifting her weight to test it. She cried out and began to tumble as she quickly pulled her foot back. Cullen launched forward to catch her, his arms circling her back as she reached up to clutch at his mantle. 

He watched her face as she breathed through the pain, her eyes closed. He found himself noticing how a couple freckles had made their way even onto her eyelids, visible even by moonlight, and the way her long eyelashes cast shadows over her cheeks that he wouldn’t have expected because of their light colouring. Her face was flushed from cold but he could see small beads of sweat forming at her temples and the tight set of her jaw that told him how much pain she was in. “I think I might need your help to get back,” she eventually said, slowly opening her eyes and looking at him with just a little resentment.

Cullen huffed through his nose. “Clearly.”

He watched her purse her lips as various retorts flashed across her face and she swallowed them all in turn. “Just-” She stopped to let out a beleaguered sigh. “Just get under my right side here to support some of my weight.” She shifted to his side, holding his shoulder with her right hand.

“I’ll just carry you.”

“No.” She jerked away from him. “I can walk. I just need a little help. You are  _ not  _ carrying me.” 

“Why not,” he sighed.

“One: You’re a Templar. Two: You’re usually a jerk. Three: I don’t like or trust you.”

It stung. He wasn’t sure why he continued to want this woman’s good opinion but he felt the same sharp sting each time she pointed out that he did not have it. “What can I do to change your opinion of me? I cannot erase my former life as a Templar.”

“No, but you could stop believing that mages need to be kept in cages as punishment for how they were born.”

“We do not keep mages in- Nevermind. Noelle, it’s at least two miles back to Haven from here. It will take forever if you are hobbling along on one leg.”

“All the more reason. You can’t carry me that far anyways.”

Cullen almost laughed. Her lack of faith was funny despite its hostility. “I wear half your weight in armour all day. I can carry you a couple miles.” He could see another protest forming on her lips. “Don’t be so stubborn. I won’t carry you without your permission but it would be significantly simpler for both of us.”

She stared at her feet for a long while, worrying her bottom lip in a way that Cullen absolutely did not find distracting.  _ Maker’s breath, Rutherford. Focus.  _

“Fine.”

Cullen nodded once and quickly scooped her off the ground and into his arms, knowing any hesitation might lead to her changing her mind. She shrieked, clutching at his neck frantically as her feet left the ground. “What are you doing?” She demanded.

He frowned at her indignant tone. “You said ‘fine’.” 

“I thought you would carry me piggyback.”

As had become a familiar feeling for Cullen, he found himself completely lost. “I have no idea what you’re on about,” he informed her as he started walking.

“On your back? You know, so the weight is more balanced and I can do the work of hanging on and your arms are free.” 

Cullen smirked. He knew he shouldn’t say it but he found his mouth moving before his brain acted to stop it. “Evidently you have more familiarity with needing to be carried than I do with carrying clumsy women.”

Silence.

He risked a look down at her and burst out laughing. She wore the expression of a petulant child. 

“Touched on something, did I?”

“It’s possible.”

“A clumsy healer, huh. I’m so please I let you near my broken nose.”

“I’m not clumsy. I used to rock climb before I got here. Occasionally there were accidents.”

“You used to… climb… rocks?” This woman got stranger with every conversation.

“Yes. On mountains and cliffs. It’s a sport where I’m from.”

“I’ve heard that the Avvar do something similar. Surprising the number of people with a death wish in the world.”

“I used a rope. I was hardly risking a fall to my death.”

“So how did you get hurt?” Cullen found himself strangely enjoying this back and forth. It was so rare they had conversations that weren’t centered around her judging or chastising him. In fact, he wasn’t sure she’d shared anything about herself with him since she had her freedom and a choice.

“Oh, you know, you’re placing some equipment and you weren’t as stable as you thought you were so you drop and go swinging from your last anchor and smash into some outcropping. Or you’re climbing crack and you fall but your foot is still wedged in there and it gets yanked really badly and you can’t walk for a few days. My fiance had to carry me out of more than one crag.”

Cullen almost dropped her. He hadn’t realized. “You are engaged? I had thought-” He cut himself off. Those were not words he needed to speak out loud.

“You thought what?”

He cleared his throat, stalling as he searched for less inappropriate words. “You and Rylen seemed to be spending time together at one point.”

“Oh, we did,” she grinned, clearly entertained by his discomfort. “My fiance, I guess he’s my ex-fiance, we had ended things not too long before I got here.”

He nodded, unsure what to say, and focused on walking. 

“It’s funny. Back when… with Rylen. It was too soon and I felt a lot of sadness and guilt about it. I think I just now realized I’m not in that place anymore. I do wonder, though, if he even noticed that I disappeared. Like, maybe I left a sweater at his place and he came to drop it off and saw the pile of mail sitting outside my door and broke in to find that I’d just disappeared and left half a glass of wine and a melted bowl of ice cream behind.”

“If so, he must have been worried. You don’t seem like the type to leave wine unfinished.”

“Hey!” Noelle punched him lightly in the shoulder and he chuckled. “You have more of a sense of humour than I thought.”

“You don’t know me particularly well.”

“No, I suppose not.” He felt her body deflate some, the stiffness she had been carrying as though determined not to relax or become comfortable finally disappearing. She dropped her head against his shoulder and he found it was a comforting weight. It brought the smell of her hair, somehow always notably fresh and herbal, to his attention. He felt himself enjoying the juxtaposition of the brisk, cold emptiness surrounding them and the living warmth settled in his arms. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked after a time, her voice quieter and looser than before.

“Fine. I don’t anticipate any problems getting you all the way back like this.”

“I meant because of the lyrium.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, determining how much he desired to share. “I am managing. Tonight was a bad night.”

“It looked bad, but maybe more emotionally than physically? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spy on you or anything.”

She wasn’t wrong. It had been nightmares rather than physical pains that pushed him out of bed and into the night, but he didn’t want to go there. “Why didn’t you just ask me to keep moving and give you some space?”

“Well, at first I didn’t know who you were and so I was hiding. It wasn’t that long ago that I was ambushed and threatened. Once I saw it was you I was just annoyed and I thought you might order me back or something and then you were praying and it seemed too awkward and… I don’t know. 

“It made more sense in my head,” she finished mumbling.

“Your head creates some strange ideas.”

“Not the first to tell me that,” she murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion.

Cullen made a noise of acknowledgement, letting the conversation die. He wasn’t at all surprised when she fell asleep about ten minutes outside of Haven. He let her sleep, enjoying the soft breath ghosting across his neck and the idea that she had trusted him enough for at least this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest. [We’re just writing our way towards Noelle ending up with either Solas or Cullen, aren’t we?](https://vote.pollcode.com/59341423)  
>  \- Obviously. Haven’t you been paying attention to the votes?  
>  \- Absolutely not. I don’t want her to end up with either one of them.
> 
> It's snowing in Haven! [What home tradition does Noelle start for fun?](https://vote.pollcode.com/95599465)  
>  \- Snowball fight  
>  \- Ice skating  
>  \- Snow cones
> 
> Background: Fenris left Hawke because he was tracking down Anders. [Did he succeed?](https://vote.pollcode.com/66556446)  
>  \- Yes, and Varric knows.  
>  \- No, he’s still searching.


	23. A Sound, A Smell, A Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Sorry about missing last week with no warning. I had some plumbing issues that just ended up derailing everything. Also, a heads up that I had planned for last week to be my last update of the year - need some time off to recharge the ol' writer brain. So instead you'll get this one entry in December and then I'm taking some time off. 
> 
> Let's be honest. We’re just writing our way towards Noelle ending up with either Solas or Cullen, aren’t we?  
> \- **Obviously. Haven’t you been paying attention to the votes?** Winner! (78%)  
>  \- Absolutely not. I don’t want her to end up with either one of them.
> 
> It's snowing in Haven!  
> \- **Snowball fight** Winner! (38%)  
>  \- Ice skating  
> \- Snow cones
> 
> Background: Fenris left Hawke because he was tracking down Anders. Did he succeed?  
> \- **Yes, and Varric knows.** Winner! (70%)  
>  \- No, he’s still searching.

“Ea son?” 

“Vin. Ame son. I na?” Her words were slightly stilted but she was pleased to have remembered them all. 

“I am not teaching, lethallan. You look tired.” Noelle was reluctant to turn the conversation. She was not an excellent student, but she enjoyed the learning and Solas seemed to enjoy teaching her as well. It was when they got along best and the quiet lessons in his cabin had become almost as valuable to her has hanging out with ‘the crew’, as she’d taken to thinking of them, in the tavern or practising archery with Jim. She was at least a better language student then she was an archery student.

“I am tired. I have had a lot on my mind and, well, you’ve heard all about my sleeping situation.”

“I have offered you a solution,  _ da’len _ .” 

He’d taken to calling her that on occasion when he wanted to tease her and she scowled at his smug grin. She had been surprised to find that Solas had a sense of humour and, on the rare occasions she saw him interact with others, wondered if they even knew. “I am still pretty firmly of the mind that I prefer not to be an imposition as much as possible.”

Solas sighed. “I have indicated it would not be an imposition. I would enjoy your presence here.”

Noelle felt the flood of affection and pleasure as soon as she opened her mouth to protest. She waited for the brunt of it to pass. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“It brings me pleasure to share with you what words fail to make clear. It was not my intention to upset you.” He frowned.

“It’s just so hard to figure out my own feelings when you do that. It all gets tangled up and messy in there.” She gestured emphatically with her hands, swirling and scrunching them together.

“I apologize. I forget that this is all new to you. In time you will learn to extricate them more easily.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just stopped sharing. You’re the only one who does it.”

“Ah,” he responded, slumping slightly. It struck Noelle that the pose appeared out of place on him, as though he should always appear proud and confident. His dejected expression hit her directly in the stomach and she wasn’t sure if the guilt she was feeling was rational. 

“You wish me to stop altogether,” he continued.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I still don’t know how to process it. But, at the least, please don’t when I’m trying to make important decisions.”

A slight incline of his head acknowledged her request. “Ma nuvenin, lethallan. It will be as you say.”

“Ma serannas, Solas.” She smiled and looked down at her hands. “And since you’re apparently so desperate for people to share with, I’d better start crashing here to keep you company.”

His brows furrowed as he extricated meaning from her statement. “Crashing?” He eventually asked with a raised eyebrow. “Do you intend to tear through here, loud as a thunderstorm?”

“No, like when you suddenly run out of energy and… Nevermind. Another phrase that doesn’t translate apparently, but close enough.”

“I will have a second bed brought in.” 

“What?” Noelle felt immediate alarm rising in her chest. “No. I’ll just bring my bedroll in. Haven hardly seems a place with extra supplies.”

“Your forbearance does you credit.”

Noelle rolled her eyes. “I’m not a stranger to sleeping on the ground.”

“Oh? Is healing not a valued profession where you come from?” 

She laughed. “Valued enough that sleeping on the ground in the wilderness was something I did for fun.”

“You garnered enjoyment from sleeping on the ground?”

Noelle groaned in frustration. “Will communicating in Thedas never get simpler?” She shook her head at him playfully. “It’s not about sleeping on the ground. It’s just a means to an end. Pursuing adventure. Testing my abilities. Reaching new heights.” She snorted lightly at her pun. “I’ve spent a lot of nights sleeping at the crag so I could tackle a new problem in the morning.”

A smile. “I believe I can relate to your desires. I have spent many an evening in less than hospitable circumstances in the pursuit of knowledge. Your own steadfast pursuit of your goals is to be admired. I would be curious to see if anything could sway you from your passions.” 

“A little camping is hardly something to be admired. You all do it regularly.”

“It is not about the camping, lethallan.”

\--

“And then,” Varric continued, “Hawke slipped and threw the axe across the room and Isabela’s hat with it.”

Varric was pretty sure he’d told that story to at least a few of the people at the table before but everyone was drunk, so who cared. He was met with enough laughter to prove that his audience did not. 

“Hey there, Biscuit,” he called, waving Noelle over when he spotted her approaching the bar.

“Well, I better turn in for the night,” Blackwall declared abruptly, before pushing away from the table stiffly. Not too subtle that one. 

“Pffft.” Sera’s slurred and disapproving noise came from just above the table. She had slouched so low in her chair as to be barely visible. “Lightweight.”

“He doesn’t like me much, does he?” Noelle sat in the vacated chair with her drink and looked pointedly at Blackwall’s retreating back.

“Not sure,” Varric hedged. “Hero gets a little funny sometimes, especially when the topic of the Wardens comes up. You just happen to be the person who is really interested.”

Trevelyan sat up a little straighter. “You’re right. He does seem to become uncomfortable when the Wardens are brought up. How have I never noticed that?”

“Call it author’s observations. You learn to read people.”

“Huh.” She stared thoughtfully at the door for another moment. “Might do him some good to talk to someone who already knows about it. The process isn’t easy. If he’s been alone and without anyone to commiserate with… how wearying.”

“Your compassion is commendable.”

Noelle looked at the Seeker in surprise and Varric suppressed his smile. It was significantly easier to convince her that not everyone aligned with the Chantry was necessarily evil when they behaved in ways that aligned with that narrative.

Although.

“Be cautious, Biscuit. Pushing people to talk who don’t want to is never a good idea.”

“I was doing my job, Varric,” Cassandra protested, forcing Varric to patiently explain that, no, he hadn’t been making a backhanded comment.

(He wasn’t surprised that she went there, however.)

A drunk Sera suddenly dropped her head over onto Noelle’s shoulder. “You smell like grassy fields and sunshine.” 

“Thanks?”

“Much better than that one.” She jutted a finger at the Seeker before her eyes slowly drifted closed. “Smells like oil and sweat. Nice after a battle when you’re all ‘rawr’ and excited but less good for napping.” She yawned, clearly at a specific stage of post-drinking. Sera’s eyes snapped open again and she lifted herself off Noelle to glare at her suspiciously, ignoring Trevelyan’s loud sniggering at her description of the Seeker and the same’s attempts to wack him into to silence. “You been rolling around outside like a grassy nug?”

“Maybe,” Noelle grinned.

“Lies,” Varric chuckled. “She bathes an obscene amount and buys fancy soaps with her money.” At her surprised expression, Varric grinned at her. He loved being right, though he certainly wasn’t going outline the boring reasons he suspected as much. “You always smell good, Biscuit. Call it an author’s observation.”

She blushed adorably. That one was too easy to tease.

Sera wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“I’m used to it, I guess. Most people bathe every day where I’m from. It’s weird that you don’t here. I can start to smell myself after two days and my hair gets all greasy and tangled and I need to wash it all out.”

“Well, at least you don’t cover yourself in stinky oils like rich Orlesians.” She drawled out the name of her countrymen with a grimace of distaste. “You just smell nice.”

“Your turn to tell an entertaining story,” Trevelyan instructed. “I’ve already run out of anything interesting and non-tragic that happened in the Circle, Sera’s too drunk to communicate anything coherently, and Cass can’t tell a good story to save her life.”

“What kind of story?”

“A drinkin’ story,” Sera slurred.

“Just something funny.”

“A funny drinking story? I could tell you about the time my friend tried to steal the shotski from our favourite bar and got us banned for life.” Silence. “I’m going to have to explain what a shotski is, aren’t I?”

\--

Noelle stretched, arching her back and pushing slightly towards the soft kisses peppering her stomach. Teeth lightly grazed her right hip before moving across to the left. Noelle gasped, phantom touches winding their way up her body and causing her to shiver. She heard a warm baritone chuckle before a hand toyed at the top of her underwear. 

“Is this okay?” A familiar voice asked before punctuating the question with a soft kiss next to her navel.

“Yes.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes as fabric was pushed aside and she felt the sensation of fingers entering her.

The kisses began to make their way up her stomach and over her sternum and Noelle let out a low moan. She looked down as her lover chuckled again and was met with his smug grin. “Let me take care of you, Biscuit.”

Noelle shot upright, her eyes flying open to the quiet cabin. Solas slept soundly across the room. He’s been asleep when she returned to the cabin last night, and seemed to have every intention of sleeping in despite the warm sunlight streaming directly over him from the window. That man slept more than anyone she knew. At least she hadn’t woken him up making ridiculous sex noises. 

_ A sex dream about Varric? What in the bloody hell was wrong with her? _

She shook her head and crawled out of her bedroll. She was hardly going to risk falling back into that experience and it was light out anyways. It was chilly and she moved to the hearth, grabbing some flint that sat on the edge of the mantle. The flint was dusty and clearly hadn’t been used since the last time she inhabited this space. She smiled to herself. Unsurprisingly the mage didn’t require any sort of fire starter. 

Noelle very carefully focused on the calming ritual of setting water to boil and preparing tea. When ghostly recollections of dream kisses trailing across her stomach caused her skin to tingle, she slapped at her face to distract herself.

“Are you well?” Solas’s concern only made the embarrassment worse. 

“Yup,” she responded, moving to grab a tea cup from the table. When she turned back around, Solas had shifted, sitting up and pulling back the covers. Completely naked.

Noelle dropped the cup, the tinkling of broken porcelain scattering across the floor sounding agonizingly loud. She was vaguely aware that he was staring at her in concern but she couldn’t wrench her eyes away from… all of it. She had seen him shirtless before but it remained surprising to see the lithe definition of his torso on someone who moved through Haven with such calm poise. And she certainly hadn’t seen-  _ Fucking biscuits. Get a hold of yourself. You’re just hot and bothered from that stupid dream. _ She dropped down and began picking up the pieces distractedly as the long lines of his body moved in her peripheral vision and reached for dark leggings folded underneath his bed. Her face felt hotter than anything.

“Nudity makes you uncomfortable.”

“No. No, it was just a shock. That’s all.” A squeaky half-truth.

“Ir abelas. I built the fire too hot last evening. It had not occurred to me that my nudity would bother you. It will not happen again.”

“I don’t want you to change your habits just to accommodate me. You’re already…” Noelle trailed off, gesturing to the cabin to indicate her intention. Her brain had somewhat short-circuited. She suddenly couldn’t look at him without her eyes slowly moving downwards.

“No. It is not my wish for you to be uneasy while you are here. I was simply being thoughtless in my actions. Where I came from, nudity was not considered taboo. As I spend a significant portion of my time here in isolation, I’m afraid the lesson has not quite taken root.”

Noelle smiled, feeling somewhat mollified. She rose and took the broken teacup pieces to the table. “Sounds like there’s a story there.” It was a weak attempt at humour.

“Nothing more interesting than what has just occurred.”

Noelle nodded and grabbed a replacement vessel. “Tea?” She offered, feeling a bit more herself.

She was met with scowl and a shake of the head. “You were slapping yourself when I awoke. Ea son?”

And the embarrassment came rushing back.

\-- Elvhen --

Ea son - Are you well?

Vin. Ame son. I na? - Yes, I am well. And you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No polls this week! I know! I just have a number of plot threads that you've all voted on that haven't been weaved in yet and since I'm taking a chunk of time off, it seemed like a good time to also include some space for me to bring in a few things more blatantly. A recap of upcoming plot points as voted on by you:  
> \- Fenris comes to Haven (he left Hawke who wanted to search for Anders and eventually found him)  
> \- Noelle becomes very suspicious of Blackwall  
> \- We get some more hints that Noelle might not be the only person from Earth in Thedas  
> \- A snowball fight  
> \- Noelle meets her first Qunari and is super curious about him  
> \- Slow positioning of appropriate romance options  
> \- ????
> 
> Please drop a line or ask any questions in the comments below. It makes my holidays even brighter! Thanks for reading and see you in January!


	24. A Snowy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No vote recaps, just a welcome back post-holiday hello! Did ya miss me?!?!

Noelle stood at the clinic entrance and stared outside wistfully. The snow had gotten deeper overnight but the day brought sunshine that glittered across its surface and beckoned to her. 

She’d always loved winter.

“By the Maker, would you just get out of here? Watching you pout like a sad mabari pup is distracting as anything.” 

Noelle blushed. She hated experiencing Surgeon’s disapproval, but honestly there was little to do that day and she hadn’t had a full day off in awhile. 

“Not sure what the attraction is anyways,” the older woman continued to grumble. “It’s just cold nonsense from the sky. Happens every year. What could possibly be exciting about it.”

It wasn’t a question but Noelle responded anyways. “Sledding, making snowmen, having snowball fights...”

“You would want to have a snowball fight?” Henrietta stared at her from across the clinic.

Surgeon snorted. “As if we don’t get enough fighting the world these days, and you two want to go throw projectiles at each other for fun.”

“We just had an archery competition three days ago!” 

“That’s different,” she sniffed. “It serves a training purpose and no one is aiming at each other.”

“Am I really so strange?” Noelle turned towards Talia who shrugged, laughing. 

“Not in this tent it seems,” she added, pointing to Cricket’s eager expression.

Noelle eyed him up. “No magic, alright? I know you're good with ice and you’ve been practising with Madame What’s-Her-Face but this is a manual creation and propulsion operation.”

Cricket nodded eagerly, looking younger than she’d ever seen him as excitement replaced the usual caution on his face. It gave Noelle an idea. She marched her little group further into Haven instead of out to the open snow, and poked her head into the kitchens. “Can we borrow Leven and Sarrel for a little bit?”

There was a brief flurry of confusion but no one asked what they were wanted for, assuming it was related to work. The boys were cautiously optimistic, having labelled Noelle as the fun one who joked with them and fed them treats when they delivered lunch. 

“What can we do for you, miss?” Leven asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. 

Noelle rolled her eyes on instinct. ‘Miss’ was the least formal term of address she could get the boys to agree on and it still bothered her some. “We’re going to go have a snowball fight.”

There shining eyes went straight to her heart. She’d never really known how to get on with kids back home; she just treated them like short adults. As it turned out, that approach worked much better in Thedas as every child was apparently expected to grow up much faster than on Earth. They had already been through so much by the time they reached adolescence that even preteens were clearly world-weary. Still, the promise of casual fun took them out of that mindset in an instant, proving they were still kids underneath all that.

As it turned out, they were also kids with friends. As they walked through Haven, one elf or the other would dart off and quickly return with another child in tow and, by the time they left the ring of buildings, Henrietta and Noelle found themselves with a retinue of a dozen kids ready to turn this fight into a full blown war. 

Of course, she’d tried to hook more adults into the game as soon as she realized she was sprouting a new kid every couple doorways but without luck. “Want to join us?” She’d called to Varric as they passed. “We’re having a snowball fight.”

Varric eyed up her young following from his seat next to the fire with skepticism. “No offense, Biscuit, but that sounds terrible. I’ll stay warm and dry and close to the ale, thank you.”

“Ah, come on,” she teased. “Sera would do it.”

“Is that supposed to be tempting?”

“Just thought you might need some more practice with projectiles after that competition.”

“Sera cheats,” he drawled, fingering Bianca lovingly. “My girl is the most accurate weapon you’ll ever see.”

“Alright,” Noelle responded, waving her hand dismissively and not bothering to comment on his praise of his weapon rather than his skill. “But you’re missing out.”

“I doubt it.”

“And you’re no fun!”

Varric clutched his hand to his chest in dramatic fashion to the delight and giggles of Noelle’s entourage. “Truly wounded. Whatever will I do?”

She desperately hoped, as she quickly counted kids on the outskirts of town, that she and Henrietta would be enough to ensure they didn’t lose any of them. “Everyone start by making one snowball,” she called out to the loose circle around her. “Don’t throw it yet. Wait.”

She looked around, waiting for the last kid to get a snowball gathered. “Wait… Hold on. Wait. Okay go!” She shouted as she ducked and ran out of the cross-hairs, getting pummelled anyways as every first throw was aimed at her. 

Noelle shrieked, covering her hair and laughing. “Cricket, cover me!” She ran behind him and started piling up snow for a little fort wall to hide behind. The sounds of laughter rang out around her and she could see kids running and hucking snow at each other in her peripheral vision. 

She popped up from behind her fort and aimed one straight at Henrietta who was looking into the distance distractedly. “Eep!” She squeaked and ran to duck behind the fort wall with Noelle. “I demand you be on my team or neither of us will get out of this with our hair in place.”

“You have very lofty goals, lady,” Noelle laughed as she made another snowball. She handed it off to a young girl standing nearby and ducked back down. “What were you looking at.”

Henrietta blushed. “A few of the soldiers wandered over to see what all the commotion was. I was just… umm…” Noelle didn’t need her to finish the sentence. It was not a secret that Henrietta liked men in armour. Noelle peeked over the wall to see who was there. “Don’t look,” Henrietta hissed in a flutter.

A few younger recruits were watching the action and laughing, evidently waiting for instructions or dismissal from their superiors. Cullen and Rylen stood off to the side, deep in discussion, and Noelle decided Rylen looked decidedly warm and like he could use a good, snowy cooldown. She began forming a snowball. “This one has Rylen’s name on it,” she whispered as she did so.

“You can’t do that!” Henrietta was squeaking again. “He’s a lieutenant!”

“He’s a good sport,” Noelle grinned. She winked at her friend and wound up, hurling the snowball towards Rylen’s shoulder…

… where it skimmed past and hit Cullen instead. 

Everything grew quiet as they turned and looked at her, Cullen frowning and brushing snow from his mantle. The soldiers froze instantly and even the kids stopped laughing one by one as they realized what had happened with the scary man. Noelle looked around, a little surprised at how afraid they all were -- not the kids but the soldiers -- and briefly flashing through all the times she’d yelled at the source.

She shrugged with an apologetic smile. “It was meant for him.” She gestured towards Rylen emphatically.

“Oh, it was, was it?” Rylen raised his eyebrows playfully before suddenly bolting towards her in a full sprint.

Noelle shrieked and jumped upwards, trying to scramble away. There was no overcoming his speed, however, and she crashed into the snow as Rylen tackled her from behind. She heard yelling as his actions started up the kids’ games again. She wriggled underneath him, using the softness of the snow to turn herself in his grasp so she was facing him again and grabbed a handful of snow to smash into his hair. He gathered some snow of his own and was about to push it into her face when a snowball smacked him in the ear.

Rylen and Noelle both turned to look at an extremely nervous looking Henrietta, standing with her face flushed red in embarrassment at her bravery. Rylen launched himself from Noelle and began chasing a screaming Henrietta with a fist full of snow raised. Noelle sat up and looked around to see the recruits were playing with the kids and a snowball fight over twenty strong was raging across the field.

She grinned turning to look at Cullen, who stood awkwardly overseeing the whole scene. “You could join us, Commander,” she teased.

He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “I cannot  _ play games  _ with my men. It would be inappropriate.”

“Lord forbid you have any fun,” she replied as she stood.

“I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to build, supply, and command an army. That requires a certain level of detachment.”

“Whatever,  _ Commander. _ ” It had been awhile since she used his title as a slur but she couldn’t resist doing it here. It was appropriate. He was being dumb and she simply couldn’t be arsed to care. She jogged away, reaching down to gather snow as she approached and lobbing it at the nearest soldier. 

\--

An hour or so later, Varric watched the returning troop as wet and bedraggled kids peeled away and returned to their various hideaways. “Have fun?”

“It was great,” she breathed. Her face was flushed and her hair was wet in places with melting snowflakes layered in others. “You missed out.”

“I remain highly doubtful,” he grinned. “Besides, by remaining here I learned an important piece of news.”

“Oh?” Noelle leaned forward, flipping her hair over her head and shaking out what snow and wet she could.

“Flissa has been making hot cider to draw people in from the snow.”

Noelle laughed. “And yet you’re somehow still out here.”

“Hey,” he protested with a wounded expression. “I was waiting for you like the thoughtful man that I am.”

She flushed a little more, looking away. “Sure.”

Varric frowned. “You alright? You suddenly look unwell.”

She plastered a smile over her face. “‘Course! Fine. Let’s go.” 

Varric followed her to the tavern, watching her thoughtfully. Something had changed with her and him and it was concerning.

\--

Blackwall pushed up his sleeves, letting the cold air whisk across his forearms and swiping the sweat from his brow. He set the axe down for a breather and surveyed the woodpiles that were evidence of his work. Granted, this wasn’t what he thought he’d be doing when he joined the Inquisition but it was humble work and it was needed. 

It suited him just fine to avoid being dragged across a dead-infested swamp as well.

“Hot cider?” Blackwall nodded, turning to take the offered mug and realizing the drink was coming from one of the last people he wanted to be around. Any brief hope that she would leave again was buried as she leaned against the wall next to him and began sipping from her own drink.

“Shouldn’t you be in the clinic?” He asked, hoping he could keep the conversation focused on her rather than him. He sipped on the warm drink, letting the sweetness fill his mouth and the heat seep into his bones. The woman who delivered it made him nervous, but the drink was exactly what he wanted. 

“Trying to get rid of me?” 

Blackwall cringed, mostly because she wasn’t entirely incorrect. “I apologize, my lady. I am not proficient at small talk. Too much time spent on my own.”

Noelle smiled wryly. “You seem to do alright whenever I’m not around.” Blackwall had no response. “I just... I hoped we could be friends.”

Blackwall tilted his head upwards, looking at the disturbing image of the tear in the sky as he considered her words. “We are standing here underneath the Breach as demons emerge from rifts across the continent, and you are concerned about my friendship?”

He expected blushing and embarrassment. He’d certainly spent enough time around women in his younger days to predict the reaction to his damning statement. He was wrong.

She snorted. “You think you’re being the big, strong hero with that stoic act? We all need friendship and support, Blackwall. No man is an island and they shouldn’t be asked to be either. Even Grey Wardens with all their good deeds and noble sacrifices need others.”

“I am not so good and noble as you think,” he sighed. He wasn’t sure if it was the relief of honesty or a continued desire to push her away that made him say it, but the words tumbled from his mouth before he registered them.

“I know the Wardens sometimes recruit criminals,” she acknowledged haltingly. “But whatever your past, you’ve committed yourself to a worthwhile cause. You want to help the world and you have given up much to do it. That makes you a good man.”

He remained silent. It wasn’t as though he could tell her why she was wrong.

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“The taint. I mean, the Joining obviously hurts and I just thought, it must hurt somehow- having all that inside you.”

He stared at her for a moment before quickly looking away. He had dropped his guard. All her flattery and compassion had made him forget not to let her ask questions he didn’t have answers for. What did she even mean? Why would he know whether the taint hurt?

“I can’t talk about Warden secrets,” he mumbled, hoping it was enough cover for the fact that he had no idea what she was talking about. 

“You can talk about them with other Wardens.”

He stumbled over his response. “You’re a Warden? You didn’t tell anyone you’re a Warden.”

She tilted her head at him quizzically and he could tell he’d blundered. He faintly wondered if the gathering sweat on his brow could still be attributed to the effort of chopping wood.

“Of course not. Well, not really. Only I was sort of living a Warden’s story at one point. I thought Wardens could sense other Wardens?”

She was frowning at him, concerned. “That’s why I was confused,” he grumbled. “I didn’t sense anything.” He hoped borrowing her phrasing would be enough. He faintly recalled hearing a rumour that Wardens had some strange ability to know each other but he’d assumed it was a mistaken idea born from their ability to sense darkspawn. 

He was questioning that assumption now.

“Okay. Well, I came to say that if you ever need or want to talk about that part of your life… I’m happy to listen and I know the secrets already so…” 

Blackwall squirmed under her gaze. She was still frowning and her words lacked the conviction of her previous statements. She held out her hand and he quickly swallowed the last of his cider before handing her the empty cup and turning back to his woodpile.

He was relieved when she left without saying anything further.

\--

That night Noelle turned over the day’s events in her head, something repeatedly catching on her conversation with Blackwall. She couldn’t put her finger on it but something about his responses suggested more than simply confusion about the source of her strange knowledge. 

She looked across the room, craving confirmation that she wasn’t crazy but Solas was gone with the Herald and he probably wouldn’t know what was off about the responses anyways. 

Noelle sighed and slowly willed herself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s winter in Haven. [Are y’all sick of holidays or do you want some Satinalia?](https://vote.pollcode.com/15491391)  
>  \- Yes, I want a festive celebration with gift giving!  
>  \- No, please no more holidays ever - even in fic!
> 
> [Noelle is going to impulsively kiss someone. Who?](https://vote.pollcode.com/42226954)  
>  \- Solas  
>  \- Cullen  
>  \- Varric  
>  \- Sera
> 
> [Who should Maxwell romance?](https://vote.pollcode.com/96271324)  
>  \- Josephine  
>  \- Dorian  
>  \- Cassandra  
>  \- Iron Bull


	25. A New Weapon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s winter in Haven. Are y’all sick of holidays or do you want some Satinalia?  
> \- **Yes, I want a festive celebration with gift giving!** Winner! (74%)  
>  \- No, please no more holidays ever - even in fic!
> 
> Noelle is going to impulsively kiss someone. Who?  
> \- **Solas** Winner! (33%)  
>  \- Cullen  
> \- Varric  
> \- Sera
> 
> Who should Maxwell romance?  
> \- Josephine  
> \- Dorian  
> \- **Cassandra** Winner! (40%)  
>  \- Iron Bull
> 
> I'm honestly surprised at how many of you voted! I thought I was going to lose half y'all by going away for a month! Cheers to you, my lovely and supportive readers!

Cullen rubbed his temples roughly. If only he could pound this headache out of his head, he thought, as the world in front of him warped and shifted in unpleasant ways. The letters twisting on the missive were not getting any easier to read. 

He’d considered getting a personal assistant, someone who could read his correspondence and take dictation. Josephine had even suggested it. Having someone in his space that regularly would be unpleasant, however. At least alone he could groan in pain and count through the nausea without alerting someone else to his condition. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly. The pain was receding for now but he could tell the day would see it returning to him in waves.

“Commander?” 

Cullen looked up to see Noelle standing in the doorway. “No,” he grumbled. “Not today. I cannot.”

“I promise I didn’t come to yell at you,” she teased, still waiting respectfully in the doorway, her hands tucked behind her back. He considered her for a moment. She certainly seemed to be in a good mood, and her not barging in was completely new.

“I’m afraid I can’t spare more soldiers for another snowball fight either,” he responded, trying to match her teasing tone. 

She grinned, taking his change in disposition as permission to enter. “I actually have something for you.” She produced a mug from behind her and set it down on his desk. 

The herbal scent wound its way pleasantly through his senses as he looked at her in confusion. “Tea?”

“To help with your symptoms.”

Cullen smiled sadly. “That is kind but I’m afraid elfroot has no effect on my condition.”

Her quizzical grin gave him pause. “Do you smell elfroot?”

He frowned. Come to think of it, this tea did not smell like elfroot tea at all. 

“Elfroot, and I still don’t understand how, only helps with pain because it heals injuries. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen and we have nothing like it where I’m from but you,” she poked at his shoulder playfully, “are not in need of healing so of course it isn’t useful.”

He snorted softly at her assertion. He was completely broken, but she was right that it was not the kind elfroot could fix. He hesitantly took a sip. The taste was strong and a little spicy and it tingled its way down his throat.

“I was working with Adan to get it right for a couple weeks now,” she explained as he drank. “I promise I didn’t tell him who or what it was for but I explained the symptoms I wanted to treat. It’s not really my background and I couldn’t do it alone.”

Cullen wasn’t sure if it was real or imagined, but his headache seemed to be mellowing and his stomach was reacting well to the strange liquid. “What’s in it?”

“Valerian root, dawn lotus, white willow bark, vandal aria... Also ginger and mint to mask some of the flavour and settle your stomach.” She smiled in a sort of triumphant way.

He was lost, honestly. He wasn’t even sure he’d remember the names of the herbs in ten minutes. His healing all came in the form of vaguely labelled potions he only drank when necessary. He took another tentative sip. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant. “Thank you.”

“Let me know how it works. I’ll make more if it’s helpful.”

“Why?” Was that a terrible question? He didn’t even know anymore.

“Because this was a test batch and I didn’t make very much? The Inquisition isn’t exactly rolling in excess supplies.”

“No.” He shook his head, regretting it for how it agitated the previously minor pain in his head. “Why are you helping me?”

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as she crossed her arms indignantly but it was too late to backtrack. “You don’t particularly like me,” he pointed out.

Noelle sighed, dropping into the chair across from me. “You helped me when I fell from a tree like an idiot and I was pretty shitty about it. Maybe this is kind of an apology tea.”

Cullen’s mouth felt suddenly incapable of forming words. He never really knew what to do when she was nice to him, so he simply smiled warmly.

“Right. Well, there you are and I’ll be going, I guess.” Noelle stood to leave and Cullen felt a strong urge to stop her from somewhere he couldn’t identify. As if she felt it too, she stopped. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he rasped. 

“What do we know about Blackwall?”

Cullen blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, did you do a background check on him? I just get the feeling there is something off about him.”

“You get… a feeling,” he repeated slowly. 

“Yes.” She stared at him stubbornly. “I do.”

He sighed, unsure whether it was reasonable to take her seriously. “I’ll talk to Leliana about looking into it.”

She looked almost surprised, her expression still and staring at him when Rylen entered. “Commander, I have the- Oh. Apologies, lass. I didn’t realize you were in here.”

“Just leaving, Rylen. Not a problem. Don’t forget to let me know about the tea, Commander.” She smiled and trailed out of the tent, and Cullen found himself watching her leave. The way her hips swung just so, and the bounce of her long braid.

He raised his eyes to his Lieutenant, who watched him with an appraising look. “You must be joking.”

Confused, Cullen furrowed his brow as he returned the gaze. “What am I joking about?”

“Her?”

“She brought me some tea,” he said, not finding the follow up had elucidated Rylen’s problem.

“Don’t give me that. I saw how you watched her just now.”

He frowned, ready to protest.

“She’s vulnerable and not in a good space to be pursued, Rutherford.” Rylen continued, heedless of Cullen’s attempts to interject. “I learned that the hard way. She was just thrown into another world a few months ago. Any feelings she develops are probably her seeking normalcy, and when she pushes it too far, she’ll regret it.”

Cullen found himself surprised to hear that kind of wisdom and sensitivity from his jovial and laidback Lieutenant. It didn’t matter, however. He had entirely the wrong idea. “I am not interested in the healer,” he retorted. “She brought me some tea for my headaches. That is all.”

“Right.”

He did not look convinced.

\--

“What about this one?” Noelle asked as she lifted the bow. Jim tilted his head, mouth scrunched to the side. “Okay, not this one then.”

“It’s just a little much for you.”

She snorted derisively. “No weapon is too much for me! I’m excellent at this now.” She put the bow back and looked for another that took her fancy. This was her first time buying a weapon. She wanted it to feel special. She also wanted it to be useful to her, hence Jim’s indispensable company and advice.

“You’re competent at it, but that’s amazing too,” he responded, exuding a genuine enthusiasm for her progress that made her smile. She missed having him around, honestly. 

“I miss you. Jim. Don’t get sent away again,” she smiled.

Jim blushed. “I go where I’m needed. I can hardly ask the Commander to adjust his troop assignments for my benefit. I’m a nobody.”

“I could. I have dirt on him, you know.” Noelle pulled out another bow, looking it up and down before putting it back.

“Oh. Please no,” he squeaked. “I would rather he not think of me at all. I don’t want to be anywhere on his radar.”

Laughing, she picked up another one. “Alright, I promise not to bring attention to you.”

Suddenly, a pair of arms draped over her shoulders. “Urgh,” a voice behind her groaned. “Remind me not to let Herald drag me off to a swamp again, yeah?”

“I’m surprised you had to be told the first time,” Jim quipped before his eyes went wide in surprise at his boldness. “Sorry.”

Sera cackled. “Nah. Was a good one. Can’t be mad about a good one.” Sliding off Noelle’s back, she added, “‘s too big for you.”

“What?” Noelle looked at the bow she was holding. It was only slightly bigger than the one she’d been training with. “I don’t think so. Plus, look at all these pretty etchings.”  _ Okay, this was why she’d brought an actual archer to help. _

Sera punched her in the arm. “Too. Big.” She repeated. “Try it and see.”

Noelle pulled back into a mock draw, standing tall. 

Jim frowned. “I don’t particularly enjoy agreeing with Sera but look at the line of your shoulders. It is too big. Not a problem at short distances, but at longer ones you will be less accurate.”

She sighed and placed the bow back on the rack.  _ Farewell pretty bow. _

Sera plucked another. “Try this one.”

Noelle took it and found the bow surprisingly light. She bounced it, testing its weight carefully.

“Light bows are easier to shift with and follow moving targets,” Jim offered.

“Yup. What he said. Good for being fast and stuff. Looks good on you.”

Noelle turned it over in her hands. She recognized it at this point as crafted from whitewood, slim and smooth.  _ Probably expensive.  _ “How much?” She swallowed as she met the shopkeeper’s eye, regretting spending so much on beers and fancy moisturizers.

“Taken care of,” the man smiled. 

She squinted at him. “I’m not sure what that means here.”

The shopkeeper chortled. “Pretty sure it means the same all over, girly. Means someone’s already paid your bill.”

“But.” Noelle stopped, considering. “No, I don’t have anyone. You must have the wrong person.”

“Psst. Take it and run stupid,” Sera hissed in her ear.

The shopkeeper didn’t even check his sheet. “Nope. It was definitely made for the redhead who stocks my wares every week. Noelle Williams.”

“That is me,” she responded haltingly. “Who did this?” 

He shrugged. “Afraid I can’t tell you, miss. Sworn to secrecy.”

She turned to Sera and Jim, sliding incredulous looks between them both. Jim held his hands up in protest. “I swear I don’t know who it was.”

Sera grinned. “Don’t look at me. Don’t associate with the richies anyway.”

“Did they know I would pick this one?”

“Money was said to be no object, miss, and I happen to know they’re good for their tab.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I guess, thank you?”

“Not me, but I hope you enjoy that. She’s a beaute.”

Noelle nodded silently, letting her friends drag her away.

\--

Varric had been looking for her. She sat, plucking at her new bow with a fascinated expression on her face. “I see you’re starting to understand,” he joked, fingering Bianca absentmindedly.

She grinned. “Do you think I should name it?”

“Perhaps. Girl bow or boy bow?”

“Hmm. Not sure. Maybe I’ll name it Varric,” she joked, winking at him.

“I have news,” he said, changing the subject abruptly.

“Oh?”

“We’re leaving for the Storm Coast tomorrow. There is a mercenary group there that wishes to offer their services.”

“Okay,” she drawled, waiting for him to explain why this was of interest.

“Fenris is going to meet us there.”

Her eyes sparkled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Who bought Noelle's bow?](https://vote.pollcode.com/18687193)  
>  \- Varric  
>  \- Leliana  
>  \- Cullen
> 
> Satinalia comes with a secret gift exchange. [Who gifts Noelle a present?](https://vote.pollcode.com/54283842)  
>  \- Solas  
>  \- Cassandra  
>  \- Josephine
> 
> Satinalia comes with a secret gift exchange. [Who does Noelle draw?](https://vote.pollcode.com/39161316)  
>  \- Blackwall  
>  \- Leliana  
>  \- Sera
> 
> This week in questions: Materialism! Also, someone mentioned that they have a hard time doing the polls on their phone. I'm looking at other site options to see what else I like but let me know if you also have a problem!


	26. An Embarrassing Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks! First, apologies for the unexplained and sudden absence. I got a new job and have been having a hard time balancing it and a new hobby and the fic writing. I've changed my planned update frequency to every other week and plan to be regular again now that I've sort of settled in a bit. Sorry again!
> 
> Who bought Noelle's bow?  
> \- Varric  
> \- Leliana  
>  **\- Cullen** Winner! (36%)
> 
> Satinalia comes with a secret gift exchange. Who gifts Noelle a present?  
>  **\- Solas** Winner! (49%)  
>  \- Cassandra  
> \- Josephine
> 
> Satinalia comes with a secret gift exchange. Who does Noelle draw?  
> \- Blackwall  
>  **\- Leliana** Winner! (50%)  
>  \- Sera

Just words. Words, but they were fun. Though she would hardly be conversational any time soon. The feeling of grass tickling her neck where she lay in its soft growth and the feeling of a breeze ruffling her hair. She had missed this magic. Everything could be perfect because it was crafted from the Fade, but it still felt real. It felt like truly being in nature, only without any of the little discomforts that could arise. The temperature was perfect, the ground was soft, and the grass smelled freshly cut as Solas formed shapes in the air with a lazy gesture.

“Dalavur,” she named as the image of a leaf hovered in the air above her.

It disappeared, replaced with a dirt path through a grove of trees. “Vir.”

“And?”

“Adahl?” She tried.

“That is only one tree, lethallan.”

She searched her memory, trying to remember how to adjust the word to mean forest.

“Adahlen.”

“Adahlen. Sorry. I’m a bit rubbish at this, aren’t I?”

Solas turned to her and smiled. “You are doing well. Do not trouble yourself.”

“Just seems you could probably be doing other things with your time. Most of my friends seem to be looped into taking care of me or teaching me things in some way or another.”

“I would not be here with you if I did not wish to be.”

She turned to look at him, examining his profile where it rose from the grass next to her. A faint smile upon his lips told her she could trust his words and she relaxed, waiting for the next image to appear. 

\--

Truth be told, Varric was a little jealous. 

Fenris had spent the past couple days waiting on the coast with The Iron Bull and the Chargers, and they had become easy friends. They were both fans of drink, liked to gripe about ‘Vints, and enjoyed enormous swords. Meanwhile, it had been nearly a year since Varric had seen Fenris in person, and that had been a brief business meeting more than anything else. He lamented how the old crew had floated apart without Hawke as Fenris and the mercenary leader rode together, joking about things that Varric didn’t quite understand.

Meanwhile, to his left, the Herald and the Seeker had their heads bent low together. No doubt discussing strategy or some other nonsense. He could not hear what they were saying anyways. 

He straightened, looking around for Sera from his saddle.  _ Riding behind with the Chargers _ . She’d taken to them like a fish to water and he was fairly certain she had developed a crush on someone in that group. 

Varric settled in and silently looked towards Haven. They were almost there and he would hopefully not feel like the odd man out anymore. He pat the horse on its neck absently. Everything in his body screamed in pain from the long ride, but it wasn’t the creature’s fault. It plodded along as best it could, the slow clip clop of its hooves barely distinguishable from those of its companions. 

_ This isn’t about you, stupid. _

He eventually found himself dismounting and walking away from the stables, almost immediately after they had finally arrived. He needed a drink, or at least some time to shake off these feelings. “Varric. Wait.” 

He stopped. 

“You are grumpy.” Fenris stood by his horse, arms crossed.

“I’m a dwarf. We are caustic by nature.”

Fenris opened his mouth to respond, no doubt something judgemental that Varric didn’t want to hear, when he heard his name called from another direction and quickly sought out its source.

“Hey, Biscuit.” He kept his voice casual, despite his relief at the distraction. She smiled brightly at seeing him before jogging over and practically tackling him in a hug and he felt immediately reassured. If he wasn’t busy looking determinedly relaxed, he would have rolled his eyes at himself. Was he really so self-conscious that he required being the centre of attention simply to feel confident in himself?

“Drinking has been immensely boring without you,” she informed him as she squeezed him tight.

Okay. He did need it. Everything in him hummed delightedly. 

Maintaining a hand on her shoulder as he pulled away from the hug, Varric gestured towards Fenris. “I don’t believe I need to introduce my brooding elf compatriot?”

Noelle froze, her face suddenly colouring red at the sight of him. Fenris shifted awkwardly at her reaction. “It is good to meet any friend of Varric’s,” he said charitably. “I am Fenris.”

She didn’t respond, seemingly stuck in time. Varric stared at her for a few more seconds before punching her lightly in the arm. “You’re being weird, Biscuit.”

“Sorry!” All at once she came back to life. “It’s just so strange. I’m used to you lot now. You, and Cullen, and Cassandra, and Leliana. All that had become normal and this just hit me a bit heavy.” She turned to Fenris, stilling blushing heavily. “Sorry. You, umm, look exactly how I imagined?”

Varric shook his head. She wasn’t getting any less awkward. “Biscuit here is a bit of a fan of ours,” he explained. “Best we can tell, she is from an entirely different world where stories of our exploits are told all over and considered fiction.”

“Stories of our exploits are fictionalized and told all over in this world, Varric.”

Noelle barked a laugh, before her hand flew to her face in surprise. “Sorry.” 

Eyeing her with skepticism, Fenris remained stiff. “What does he mean by another world? Do you fancy yourself from the Fade or the Void?”

Noelle blushed heavily and Varric frowned. The elf had a way of putting people on the defensive. “From Earth,” she mumbled. 

He could see that Fenris was confused and wary. Mentions of other worlds sounded like magic and with the Breach swirling above him, Varric wasn’t surprised that he would be on edge. “No idea how she got here. Least magical person I know,” he put forward, despite not being asked for his input.

“Really?” Noelle scrunched her nose as she directed her gaze towards him. “ _ Least  _ magical? Even less than Sera?”

“Sera fires arrows like they’re guided by magic.” 

Her attention shifted, drawn to something over his shoulder and Varric turned to see Josephine leading the Chargers as a group on some sort of tour. Her sparkling jewellery and floating walk put her in stark contrast to the clanking lurch of the mercenaries as they trudged along behind her. “Who is that?”

“Chargers. The Inquisition just hired them.” 

“No, uhh… the big one.” She mimed the shape of horns coming from her head awkwardly.

“ _ The  _ Iron Bull.” He emphasized the preposition in jest. “Leader of the whole crew.”

She swallowed awkwardly. “Is he a Qunari?”

Fenris snorted. “Quite the backwater town you’re from if you’ve never seen one.” He wasn’t mocking her, not really. He was simply observing. 

“We don’t have them where I’m from,” she snapped. “No elves. No dwarves. No darkspawn. No magic. No bloody holes in the sky. Okay?” Shaking her head, she walked away and Varric watched her with pity. Couldn’t be easy. Months in and it still happened on occasion that she was reminded of home and it all became a bit much. 

“I have offended.” 

Varric shrugged. “Not everyone can have the gift of gab, Broody.” 

\--

Noelle was struggling to focus. It was evident in the way she stumbled over grammar she had mastered before and how she didn’t really look at him properly. Solas found himself returning to simple memory checks on words. Twirling a thin strand of the Fade into delicate feathers and sending a sparrow fluttering in circles overhead.

“Ean,” she muttered.

He rolled his fingers together and caused the sparrow to dive and swirl, taking the form of a fish.

“Manean.”

He glanced at her, the preoccupation sitting upon her face with a slight pout, and sends the image swimming away into the distance. He reached out his feelings to her, touching at anxiety and distress. “Are you alright, lethallan? You seem out of sorts.”

“Ir abelas, Solas,” she sighed. “I’m wasting your time.”

“You are not wasting my time,” he corrected. “I enjoy these lessons, but I worry when my friend seems upset.”

“It’s silly. I just met someone the other day that I’ve read a lot about and I was rather excited and it was disappointing. I was awkward and I think he was rude to me? Tel’nuas, falon. Dea on’el.”

He smiled at the way she casually inserted phrases into their conversation, her accent almost perfect. It would sound off to the Dalish but its lilt mimicked his own rather than theirs and came much closer to the voices of his memories. He could close his eyes and imagine she were one of the People. 

She would fit in well with the Evanuris, visually at least. Her high cheekbones and willowy frame were very like the current Elvhen, but she was slightly taller. She had stronger bones. He wondered, almost lackadaisical, what she would look like with pointed ears. He lay back down, pulling the Fade into another shape. 

\--

Noelle was a bit flustered, having awoken late and finding herself rushing towards the infirmary with a sweet roll in one hand and an apple in the other. It happened on occasion. It happened mostly after long nights of semi-consciousness with Solas in the Fade. She wasn’t certain how he always seemed so rested, given that he appeared to prowl the dreamscape so frequently.

She took a bite from the roll as she quickly trotted along, not watching where she was going and smashing into a brick wall. 

Not a true brick wall, of course. Rather the large and solid chest of an enormous Qunari. Her eyes scanned upwards as she took him in, everything about him distinctly inhuman in ways she didn’t experience with elves and dwarves. Even his skin seemed textured almost like leather. “S- Sorry,” she muttered. 

She had expectations based on her interactions with Sten and the Arishok. She thought she knew what Qunari were about. She did not expect him to lean back and give her a suggestive once over with his good eye. She definitely did not expect him to grin and inform her she was too hot to ask for forgiveness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per request, I'm using a new polling site this week. Let me know how you like it. Better? Worse? Couldn't care less?
> 
> Who does Sera have a crush on?  
> \- Dalish  
>  **\- Skinner** Winner! (54%)
> 
> How does Noelle get past the awkwardness with Fenris?  
>  **\- Varric gets them good and drunk together** Winner! (62%)  
>  \- They find themselves in a fight together
> 
> How does Iron Bull react to Noelle’s curiosity?  
>  **\- Amused. He indulges her and flirts. (She is a redhead afterall.) **Winner! (90%)  
> ****  
>  \- Like a spy. He is suspicious of her motives and her backstory.  
> \- Irritated. He is sick of being treated as ‘what’ he is rather than ‘who’.


	27. An Intro to Thedan Culture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who does Sera have a crush on?  
> \- Dalish  
>  **\- Skinner** Winner! (54%)
> 
> How does Noelle get past the awkwardness with Fenris?  
>  **\- Varric gets them good and drunk together** Winner! (62%)  
>  \- They find themselves in a fight together
> 
> How does Iron Bull react to Noelle’s curiosity?  
>  **\- Amused. He indulges her and flirts. (She is a redhead afterall.)** Winner! (90%)  
>  \- Like a spy. He is suspicious of her motives and her backstory.  
> \- Irritated. He is sick of being treated as ‘what’ he is rather than ‘who’.

Noelle stared at him for longer than could possibly be considered polite. “Sorry. I think I misheard you?”

He stood exactly at the edge her personal space, though she was pretty sure it was only because he was so tall and with his hands on his hips he took up all her vision. A slight step forward and he would be too close but as it was she simply felt focused on him. At her height, her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, shaking as he chuckled. “I said you can bump any part of yours into any part of mine whenever you want.”

She might have been short circuiting. “Are you flirting with me?” She had to check. “I didn’t think Qunari did that.” Her experience was limited but what she remembered had been serious and pointed comments from Sten and the Arishok. 

He chuckled again, apparently finding amusement in her confusion. “I worked in Orlais for a few years. Flirting is second nature over there. You pick up a few things.”

She breezed passed his continued flirting. Now that she knew for sure what he was doing she felt a little less off balance by it. “You don’t seem Orlesian.” 

His laugh only grew louder. “Ehh, I worked there but I’m from the Qun. You’re a naive one aren’t you?” 

The question was friendly and only chafed slightly at her pride, given how accurate it was. “I’m not from around here - or from anywhere that could be considered ‘here’.”

“Oh, yes,” he rumbled. She noticed the reverberations rattling in her own chest, his voice was so deep and booming. “I heard about you. Woman from a strange world who somehow found herself in the centre of the chaos. Would be almost suspicious if it wasn’t so suspicious, you know?”

She found herself wanting to change the subject, even as something at the back of her mind itched that there was something she should remember. Her eyes were still settled squarely on his body, his presence somehow both casual and imposing at once. Maybe that was more her own projection. “I like your tattoos,” she offered, her hand reaching out on its own towards the metallic and intricate patterns. 

“It’s Vitaar,” he corrected, his tone spirited in the way she was used to people talking about expensive sporting goods or fancy vehicles doing. “It’s toxic armour.”

Noelle jerked her hand back quickly, prompting more laughter from the man. It was strange how he both seemed to be laughing at her and to not be judging her. It was hard to tell whether she should be offended. She didn’t feel offended. “It’s only toxic when wet,” he explained jovially.

“So how do you put it on?”

“It’s not toxic to Qunari, only to other races.” He was looking at her like she were a complete novelty.

“Really?” Noelle felt a rush of excitement. “So there is something in your biological profile that makes you immune. Fascinating. Are there other substances that affect Qunari differently? I’d love for you to come by the clinic someti- the clinic. Oh, shit!” In a rush, her lateness for work came back to her. “I have to go!”

More laughter accompanied her as she ran off. “It’s The Iron Bull, by the way. If you want to find me later.” 

“I know,” she called back, not bothering to give her name.

\--

“Just stick your hand in the box, Biscuit.”

“But I don’t know how to give presents here,” Noelle protested. “What things do people think make good gifts? How much do we spend? Do we wrap them? It’s all too confusing, Varric. Better leave me out of it.”

Varric rolled his eyes. This conversation had been going on for far too long. “Too bad. Your name was put in the box and someone already drew you so you can’t duck out or someone else won’t get a gift.” Her stubborn streak sometimes needed to be bypassed with creativity. It wasn’t necessarily a lie; he just wasn’t certain if it had been pulled or not and he didn’t want to dig through the box to find out and give her a pass if it remained.

“Shit.”

Varric shook the box in her direction, feeling no guilt about his stretching of the truth. “Pull a name.”

She glared at him and he stared back, pretending he was not as amused by her protest as he actually felt. Eyes still narrowed, she shoved her hand inside and pulled out a piece of paper. 

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” She tried to put it back and Varric jerked the box away. “You don’t get to pick and choose, Biscuit.” 

“What the fuck am I supposed to get Leliana?” She hissed at him, appearing thoroughly horrified.

“Sounds like a problem for you to figure out.” He grinned, thoroughly amused now at the twist of fate. It would be good for her to move past the grilling and discomfort, since she was staying with the Inquisition. Andraste’s tits, Nightingale hadn’t had concerns about her for months. 

“No, Varric. You don’t understand. This Leliana is completely different from the one I thought I knew. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Honestly, it sounds like you have two places to start.”

She sputtered as she endeavoured to find the right words for a retort and he walked away, waving lazily behind him as he went. “You have one week until the party. Later!”

“Party?”

\--

“Oh, yes,” Henrietta bounced excitedly as they cleaned potion bottles together. “Lady Montilyet is throwing a Satinalia celebration in the Chantry. There will be dancing, and masks, and gift giving is very common around these parts even during hard times so Master Tethras is right about his traditions.”

Noelle shook her head, still feeling distracted over determining what to get Leliana. In Origins her best gift had been religious symbols and blue satin shoes. It was far too difficult to buy shoes for another person and she was literally living out of a Chantry right now, so neither felt appropriate. “Varric also mentioned something cryptic.” She tried to recall his exact words but they weren’t quite coming to her. “Something about finding yourself in the right place with the right person? He winked at me.”

Henrietta jerked her head upright and squealed, prompting a stern look from Surgeon across the tent. Blushing, she returned her attention to the bottles and spoke in a lower voice. “There is an old Satinalia tradition that isn’t practised in many places. It’s considered blasphemous by parts of the Chantry. There’s a story that Andraste once blessed a sprig of embrium hanging in the entrance of a young couple’s home to bring love and happiness. They gave her sanctuary when others would not and had prosperous and happy lives from then on. The embrium stayed fresh all year and bloomed around their home even in winter. The story isn’t well supported but some people believe it and they hang embrium in doorways during the winter for couples to kiss under and gain good fortune.”

“We have something like that,” Noelle mused. “Only it’s under mistletoe and the legend is quite different.”

“Mistletoe? I don’t think we have such a plant. At least not in the south.” 

Noelle shrugged. If Thedas had plants that didn’t exist on Earth, it was only reasonable to expect the opposite. She hadn’t interrogated it much yet and the few herbs she had asked for thus far did exist.

“I wonder if anyone will kiss me,” she mused, eyes wistful and now looking into the space between. Noelle gave light laugh, exhaling through her nose, at her friend’s fanciful dreamery. The bottle began to slip through soap laden hands and Henrietta’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening. Noelle snatched it from the air and returned it to the sink, both of them looking to see if Surgeon had noticed. Thankfully she faced the other way, leaning over the bed of a new patient.

They shared a look mixed with relief and horror and returned to work, faces flushed red. 

“You know,” Henrietta giggled, her voice just barely audible. “If Master Tethras mentioned that to you specifically, I bet there is a reason.”

“He was only joking around,” she protested, even as her face grew more red.

“No way. He writes all those books. He’s good at words and romance. I bet he knew what he was saying.”

Noelle was silent, chewing her lip nervously even as her mind raced.  _ Did he mean her and him? _ A million butterflies flapped about in her stomach. What would she do if Varric kissed her? Did she even want that?

Yes.

Yes, she did.

\--

Cullen’s footfalls crunched loudly in the snow, the trees bouncing the sound back at him in mocking echoes. They carried voices which mocked him.  _ Sleep is not for you. You don’t deserve restful nights.  _ At least his pain was minimal today. Still, it would be nice not to be tormented by nightmares for one night.

A shadow moving through the trees sent his hand to his sword and part of his mind wondered if he was in the middle of another nightmare. As the shape took the form of Noelle, he hesitated. It could still be a nightmare. It was strange to see her out wandering alone this late.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, slightly wary.

She huffed, pushing a strand of damp hair out of her face. “Probably the same thing you’re doing.”

Cullen relaxed immediately. If this was a nightmare, she wouldn’t be responding to him with banal snappiness. “We could do it together, if you wanted.” Maker, he didn’t even know why he said that and he shifted awkwardly, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck as he waited on her response.

She eyed him carefully for a few moments. “I suppose it is easier to avoid being up in your head with someone else around,” she said slowly.

He turned to walk with her and they continued together in silence a little ways.

“This would probably work better if we actually said something to each other.”

“Right.” Not that he knew what to say. It would be easier if she were more involved in Inquisition operations. He could simply give her reports and get her opinion on actions to be taken. Conversing about work was much easier than making small talk.

“You never got back to me.”

He stopped walking, turning to address her in his confusion. “About?”

“The tea. I guess it didn’t help?”

“Oh. Err... It did. It reduced the severity of symptoms enough for me to focus and get a good night’s rest. Thank you.”

“Then why didn’t you ask for more?”

He honestly didn’t know. He’d thought about it every night as he lay awake, every day as he rubbed his temples and stared at his work. It was the one thing that didn’t involve having a mage pour magic into his skull that actually helped. Somehow every time he worked himself up to ask her for more, something diverted his attention and he gratefully allowed it. He shrugged, helpless to explain his actions.

She sighed, exasperation and exhaustion heavy in the tones of her breath. 

It was quite literally now or never, as the expression goes. Cullen ran a hand awkwardly through his hair before dropping it, the clang of his armour banging against itself startling after the long silence. “It was very helpful. Would you be so kind as to make me some more?”

She rolled her eyes and started them walking through the trees once more. “Obviously. That was my original offer after all.”

Feeling a wave of anxiety that may or may not have been related to his withdrawal, Cullen started cycling through all their awkward moments in his head. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not completely without a sense of fun,” he blurted out.

“What?”

Maker, he didn’t even know. What had he intended to say? “Like with the snowball fight. It’s not that I’m against fun, it just wouldn’t be appropriate to play games like that with recruits.” 

“You know, Commander,” she said slowly, her words pulled out along with the edges of her lips as they curled into a grin. “I don’t see any recruits around now.”

“That’s true,” he admitted, hoping she wouldn’t push it further.

“So…” 

It was a word that only served one purpose. It delivered an implication. 

“You must be joking.”

“Am I?” She slowly crouched and began forming a snowball in her hands, staring him down as she did. “I thought you said you had a sense of fun,” she challenged.

As he contemplated how to respond, chunk of cold snow smacked him in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Does Cullen join the snowball fight?](https://linkto.run/p/7Y64XLYS)  
>  \- Yes.   
>  \- No. 
> 
> [Does Leliana know about Blackwall?](https://linkto.run/p/Y0HVPKOM)  
>  \- No. His tracks are too well hidden.  
>  \- Yes. She investigated following Noelle’s conversation with Cullen and found out.  
>  \- Yes. She has known the whole time, it is a useful lie.
> 
> [Did Hawke get together with Anders?](https://linkto.run/p/RT2MFOZ6)  
>  \- Yes, they are a couple when Hawke shows up.  
>  \- Yes, but only for a brief and foolish moment.  
>  \- No, they are only friends with similar beliefs on mage rights.


	28. A Mind You Can't Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Cullen join the snowball fight?  
>  **\- Yes** Winner! (96%)  
>  \- No.
> 
> Does Leliana know about Blackwall?  
> \- No. His tracks are too well hidden.  
>  **\- Yes. She investigated following Noelle’s conversation with Cullen and found out.** Winner! (47%)  
>  \- Yes. She has known the whole time, it is a useful lie.
> 
> Did Hawke get together with Anders?  
>  **\- Yes, they are a couple when Hawke shows up.** Winner! (45%)  
>  \- Yes, but only for a brief and foolish moment.  
> \- No, they are only friends with similar beliefs on mage rights.
> 
> First: Damn y'all like some drama! When Hawke gets to Skyhold things are gonna get angsty!  
> Second: Sorry I was late this week. Had a nasty cold and passed out without writing a bunch of the week. I'll keep voting open until Sunday night to help compensate.

Noelle felt the moment stretch out, frozen in allegiance with the landscape, while she waited for Cullen to react. The flutter in her stomach told her she was worried he’d be upset, that she’d gone too far. His gloved hand swiped over his face and brushed off the remaining snow. “Your aim has improved,” he said mildly, his mouth curling into a tiny smile.

Noelle felt her anxiety dissipate and she laughed at the memory of her accidentally thwacking her with another frozen projectile while targeting Rylen. “Maybe I was lying. Maybe that snowball was intended for you after all.” 

“Is that so?” He grinned, leaning down and packing a snowball nearly the size of her head in his large hands. 

“Oh shit.” Noelle scrambled behind a tree as it came flying towards her, landing against the bark with a loud thud and causing the whole tree to shake and scatter snow down over her head. A small clump slipped down the back of her shirt, melting and sliding in a cold line down her spine and she hissed as she clutched at her back, fruitlessly trying to fix it. Two hands full of snow were pushed into her face and she flailed wildly in his general direction, unable to see. 

“First lesson of battle: Never let your guard down,” he teased from somewhere near her left ear. 

Noelle shook her head madly, clearing the snow from her face as she knelt down to gather more snow to fire back with. She stood and looked around, seeing no sight of him. “What are you, a rogue or a warrior?” She called out in frustration, beginning to regret picking a fight with the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies. He was generally stiff, and awkward, and stern. It was easy to forget there was a realm in which he would be confident and difficult to overcome.

She held the snowball aloft as she moved through the trees slowly, her eyes darting about in search of movement. A flash to her left and she hurled the snowball at a rabbit that bounded off long before it would have been hit. She quickly gathered another bunch of snow and began packing it in her hands as she moved forward again. “You weren’t even close,” a voice said calmly from right behind her. Noelle jumped out of her skin, gaining actual distance from the ground, and pushed the snow into his face with a shriek. 

Her feet tangled, either with his feet or her own, and she clutched at his mantle in a vain attempt to regain her footing before they both toppled to the ground in a clumsy flash of limbs and metal. She could tell he tried to brace himself and not completely crush her with his heavy armour but his greave digging into her thigh burned and his elbow had clipped her on the way down. She could feel the cold of the snow through her mass of hair and warm cloak. “This is usually much cuter in stories,” she grunted.

“What?” He paused in his attempt to push off her, looking down at her with a quizzical smile.

“You know, the clumsy girl trips or something and the handsome man either catches her or they fall adorably together, laughing the whole time.” She grinned at his confused expression. “And then they have this moment, right? Where they look at each other and share this moment and probably almost kiss before something happens to ruin it.”

“I’m not sure I read the same stories you do,” Cullen mumbled, blushing lightly at her description.

She was a little amused that ten years on, she could still see the young man that would run away from a mage warden that flirted with him. Her eyes roamed his face, enjoying the comparison. He was much more handsome in person though. Or, perhaps, it was simply the benefit of age. The scar bisecting his lip gave him a sort of roguish attractiveness and she examined it with curiosity, the question of what it would be like to kiss those lips flitting across her mind. She instantly recoiled at the thought. “Get off of me,” she snapped, pushing up against his breastplate fruitlessly.

Cullen’s eyebrows furrowed, his mouth falling open in surprise at her sudden turn. “Of course.” He quickly pushed away and stood, towering above where she was crumpled and pressed into the snow. He held his hand out to help her up but she scrambled to her feet on her own. “I didn’t intend any offense about your choice in literature.”

“I don’t care what you think about my reading list,” she returned bitterly. She wasn’t really paying attention to him now, cursing her own idiotic mind. It was one thing to work with him and help him to do his own job better with her skills, it was another to get sucked into joking around with him and consider whether she found him attractive. He was still a bigoted Templar and the jerk who tied her up and practically left her to the mercy of demons when they first met, even if he had shown her a moment or two of humanity when there were no stakes and they were alone. She had no doubt he would turn on her with even the slightest suspicion she was a mage or had spoken to a demon.

Cullen stood awkwardly watching her as she brushed the snow from her clothes, clearly at a loss for words. His breastplate glinted in the moonlight and she noticed the absence of a Templar insignia. It made her even angrier, like he was hiding his past. A logical part in the back of her mind knew that wasn’t the case but she was beyond being rational now. She had moved into anger and frustration.

“I would like to offer an apology,” he said, his voice quiet and carried along by the silence that otherwise filled the forest at night.

“Please. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” Noelle turned and began carefully picking her way through their footprints, back in the direction of Haven. She could hear the crunching of his boots following behind her.

\--

Noelle moved slowly through the market stalls, picking up items and putting them back down with grunts of dissatisfaction. She had gone to Varric after a previous failed attempt and asked if a note of credit with one of the vendors would do but had been answered with a resounding negative and an expression of disappointment that crushed her. It wasn’t that she felt guilty, per se, it was more a need to have Varric think well of her. The desire sent her back to the market with a strange mix of determination and hopelessness she had never experienced before.

“Oi! This where you been the last hour?” Sera’s voice hollering through the crowd was unmistakable. “Didn’t take you for the shopping type. Not now you got your bow anyways.”

“Gift shopping for Varric’s Satinalia exchange,” she grumped.

A loud and drawn out raspberry was her first response. “That thing? Got that done ages ago. Not so hard, yeah? Just get something that goes boom-whizz and be done.”

Noelle had a sudden vision of opening her gift and having it explode in her face. “Please tell me you aren’t gifting for me.”

“Pfft. You wish.”

“I wish I was buying for you. I might be done as well if I wasn’t trying to find something appropriate for Leliana.”

Sera laughed. “Ooh. That one’s scary. Don’t envy you much after all.” 

Noelle groaned, commiserating with herself over her own misfortune. She picked up a pin depicting a raven, then decided it was too obvious and silly put it back. She had to choose something though. The day was fast approaching.

“Wish I got  _ her  _ though,” Sera was saying from somewhere behind her. “Know exactly what I’d like to get her.”

Noelle craned her head to see a dark-haired elf examining a throwing knife, her eyes as sharp as her cheekbones. Noelle was beginning to think Sera had a type and it was angular women with resting bitch face. She was fully prepared to be proven wrong, however.

“Who is that?”

“Skinner. One of them Chargers we brought back from the Storm Coast. Can’t say I didn’t want to get into that bed roll when it was cold at night... What?” She asked at Noelle’s raised eyebrow. “Not my fault she opens her mouth about killing the wealthy jerkfaces abusin’ people and does things to me.”

“I suppose not,” Noelle laughed. “She probably should have known better than to talk about murdering people if she didn’t want to turn you on.”

“Exactly!”

“So what would you get her then?” She steeled herself for the mention of some sort of sex toy or raunchy book, knowing Sera didn’t pull any punches when it came to expressing how she felt.

“Big ol’ box of cookies.”

“Wait, what?”

\--

Noelle felt as though she were wading through sludge as she changed into sleep clothes in the small sideroom that constituted a sort of Thedas washroom, only without the toilet. It was mostly a washbasin, a tub, and a small mirror. She still got the impression that Solas was amused by her modesty but he had taken to also changing in the side room to prioritize her comfort. She vaguely wondered what happened on the road. Did everyone strip in front of each other for safety and efficiency? If she were covered in demon gunk, she’d likely do the same. Getting free of demon debris trumped modesty every time.

She walked back into the main room to see Solas reading, a glowing orb hovering slightly overhead. She had seen him use that trick before, of course, but something about it this evening amused her.

“No wonder you haven’t invented electricity over here yet,” she joked as she sat on her bed and began braiding her hair.

“We use electrical energy in many spells.” He said the words mildly, as though he was correcting a simple misconception. A lecturer responding to a student who gave a wrong answer in class.

“Not like we do,” Noelle laughed. “I mean, our entire civilization would collapse without it most likely.”

Solas made a thoughtful noise. “Interesting.” The book now lying face down on his lap spoke similarly of his thoughts. “What use does electricity serve that it is so integral to your society?”

“Lighting, communication, transportation, resource distribution, food preservation. Among other things.”

Solas observed her quietly, absorbing her words. “I would very much like to see your world.”

“I’ll bet,” she teased, winking at him from across the room and ignoring the tug in her gut. The reaction was a knee jerk cover-up for how nostalgic the statement made her. She would also very much like to see her world again.

“You do not have to do that, lethallen,” he murmured. “I am sorry for making you sad.”

Sometimes she forgot. In the absence of him pushing his own emotions into her awareness, it was easy to ignore that he almost always knew what she was feeling unless he actively worked to block it. “It wasn’t you. Missing home is just part of my life now.”

“Perhaps you could show me what it is that you miss.”

She laughed; a sad, dry bark that echoed in the small room. “If I knew how to do that, I would have been gone a long time ago.”

“I do not refer to your real world, of course. I could shape the Fade to something that approximates such a place with your guidance.”

She couldn’t deny the idea was appealing. She hadn’t even considered it would be a possibility during all these nights in the Fade with him shaping the environment to quiz her on language. “I will think on it.” 

Solas rose from his chair and approached, crouching in front of her and examining her face carefully. His hand reached out and his finger curled under her chin, gently guiding her face left and right. She should be recoiling but instead she felt a calm curiosity about his intentions and wondered if he was influencing her emotions again, but it did not feel that way. 

“Ma brithas souverast, lethallen.”

“Not very flattering,” she sighed. “But yes, I am tired.”

He smiled gently, his blue eyes shining with amusement at her petulance. The steady glow wasn’t quite bright enough to make out his freckles and looked otherworldly and pale without them. He looked less human, or at least she didn’t have a better way to put it. “I came over to examine how the light was hitting your face. The shadows were dramatic and your features striking. It was only upon closer inspection that I discovered you appeared worn down.”

Noelle was caught off guard. It was almost a compliment, yet he spoke of her like she were a painting hung upon his wall. “I was stressing over something relatively unimportant,” she admitted. “Trying to get a gift for Varric’s Satinalia exchange.”

“Ah.” His amusement appeared to increase as he dropped his hand from her face and stood. “I’m afraid I cannot empathize. I found my own recipient quite easy to gift for.”

“Lucky you,” she grumped, thinking to her own gifts with ongoing concern. “But at least Varric can’t say I didn’t try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [What part of her home does Noelle show Solas?](https://linkto.run/p/C9RW043O)  
>  \- Her apartment  
>  \- Place des Festivals  
>  \- The Underground City
> 
> [What does Leliana do with the information about Blackwall?](https://linkto.run/p/62GHFN0L)  
>  \- Asks Noelle to keep the secret for now as it is useful  
>  \- Sends Blackwall to Orlais to be judged  
>  \- Exiles him from the Inquisition but keeps the secret
> 
> [Do Fenris and Hawke get back together?](https://linkto.run/p/TVCBGJ5H)  
>  \- Yes, they’re meant to be together.  
>  \- No, Fenris finds a connection somewhere else.  
>  \- No, Fenris is focused on himself and remains single.


End file.
